EVIL CRIMES a gripping crime thriller full of twists

by MICHAEL HAMBLING

  Maria sighed and looked even more forlorn. ‘She told me I was too clingy, and that I was trying to control her life. It was all over that new boyfriend. We’d agreed to tell each other if someone else came along, but she didn’t. I know she wasn’t the same as me. I’m just not interested in men, but she was more mixed up and didn’t know what she wanted. Maybe that was the problem. Still, she should have told me and she didn’t. She pretended there wasn’t anyone else, but I knew she was lying. And then when I saw him on Saturday, I knew she would treat him just like all the rest. Like a toy. Just like me.’ Tears started rolling down her cheeks. ‘I feel so empty now she’s gone.’

  ‘But why did you hit her, Maria?’

  ‘She told me I was a leech, trying to suck the life out of her. I was really upset and angry, so I slapped her. But it wasn’t hard, I told you yesterday. She pushed me and I hit the wall and fell over.’

  Sophie’s stomach tightened. These were almost the same words that her own daughter, Jade, had used the previous weekend when describing her argument with her boyfriend. Thank God that in Jade’s case, the violence hadn’t escalated further.

  ‘So what did you do after Hattie left?’ she asked.

  ‘I told you. I stayed in for the evening. Two of the others in our block weren’t going out, so I watched TV with them.’

  ‘Until what time?’

  ‘Midnight or so, then we went to bed. We shared a bottle of wine first.’

  ‘I’ll need their names, Maria.’ She paused. ‘So you didn’t go out again that night? You didn’t walk down to the quayside, wait in the dark for Hattie to come out of the club and attack her? Just for revenge?’

  Maria looked at Sophie, her eyes still wet. ‘No. How could I do that? I loved her. I miss her so much.’

  * * *

  Sue Wilding’s car drew up outside the Plymouth offices of Dart Valley Estate Agents. She and Rae peered in the window before going in. A bored-looking member of staff looked up in anticipation, only to be disappointed when Sue showed her warrant card.

  ‘I’m looking for Matt Brindle? I understand he works here.’

  The woman smiled nervously. ‘He’s not in today. He phoned in sick, but he said he intends to be with us tomorrow. I hope everything is alright?’

  ‘His address, please?’

  The agent reeled off the address from memory. ‘It’s only a short distance away. You can walk there in ten minutes.’

  She was rewarded with a chilly smile. Sue turned on her heels and left. Rae gave the woman a smile. ‘He’s just a witness, that’s all. No need to worry.’ She hurried after Sue, wondering why she’d been so unpleasant, but not really surprised. During the hour-long drive from Exeter, Rae had made several attempts at conversation, but it was clear that Sue Wilding resented her presence and probably, as she saw it, their meddling in what was clearly a Devon-based investigation into an Exeter crime.

  They drove into the cul-de-sac where the young man lived. A middle-aged woman opened the door and eyed them suspiciously. Her suspicion increased when Sue Wilding told her the reason for their visit.

  ‘Matthew’s not well. That’s why he’s not at work.’

  ‘But his work said that he’ll be in tomorrow, so he can’t be that bad, can he? I want to see him for twenty minutes at the most, so please let us in.’

  Reluctantly, Mrs Brindle opened the door and gestured for them to go into the sitting room. They found Matt sitting in a soft chair, a magazine on his lap. He looked scared, and his hands were shaking.

  Chapter 32: Arrest

  ‘She did what?’ Sophie Allen stood with her mouth open in utter disbelief.

  ‘She arrested him, and I don’t think she has enough evidence to go on. He’s in the custody suite at Plymouth, waiting for a security van to bring him here. What it’ll do to his mental state, I dread to think, and his mother’ll be frantic. But there was nothing I could do, ma’am. The thing is, he lied about getting home from Exeter on Saturday night. He said he got one of the last trains, after ten o’clock, but we knew that was impossible. There was some kind of engineering work beyond Newton Abbot, and everyone had to go by bus the rest of the way. He knew nothing about it. Either he got an earlier train, or he found some other way home. I don’t see why he would lie about it unless he was guilty, but it still doesn’t square up. He just doesn’t seem to be the type.’

  ‘It would make sense, Rae, if her death was some kind of accident, or an argument that escalated out of control. We know he’d had a barney with her earlier. Maybe they had a second round on the quayside and things got out of hand. But from what you’ve said about him, it doesn’t seem likely, does it? Whoever assaulted Hattie deliberately left her in the water to drown instead of trying to fish her out or get help. That tends to suggest it was either predetermined or the assailant was cool and callous enough to realise that it provided a convenient solution to their problem, whatever it was. Is Matt Brindle like that?’

  Rae shook her head. ‘I wouldn’t say so. The other thing is, I wonder if he’s got some kind of emotional issues. Maybe he’s a bit autistic or something, but he really struggles in social situations. I thought that when I spoke to him on Saturday afternoon. He was a bag of nerves when we saw him today, and Sue saw it as a sign of guilt, despite the fact that he denied any involvement. He was getting really mixed up in his account of what he did on Saturday evening, and in the details of his relationship with Hattie, and she immediately jumped to conclusions. But they’re a really strait-laced family. The place is full of religious paraphernalia. I think whatever he got up to with Hattie after he met her a week or so ago has completely knocked away his foundations, added to which he probably feels a strong sense of guilt just because she’s dead. He really doesn’t know where he is.’

  ‘He already knew about her death, then?’

  Rae tucked her dark hair behind her ears. ‘Yesterday afternoon he heard on the local news that an Exeter student had died, and listened to the bulletins from then on. Her identity was released in a late evening bulletin, wasn’t it? He told us he didn’t sleep at all last night.’

  ‘He could be guilty though, Rae. He’s in the frame, isn’t he? We know that. Maybe Sue saw something that you missed.’

  ‘I realise that. But I can’t help feeling she’s jumped the gun. There’s no substantive evidence against him. Okay, it’s true that his account was all mixed up and muddled and, frankly, a mess. But there was nothing in what he said that could pin the assault definitively on him. I think she’s one angry cop, and she’s gone for the easiest target. I tried to ask her what her reasons were on our way back, but she just told me to keep my nose out of local matters.’

  Sophie frowned. ‘I was worried about this kind of thing happening. And Tommy’s just left to get his train, not twenty minutes ago. I think he’s seriously ill, so he’s decided to leave it all to her. From their point of view it’s open and shut, isn’t it? Hattie’s a local student. She was knocked on the head then tipped into the water, and died from her injuries. They’ve decided to ignore the back story that we’ve brought along with us, because it adds too many complications.’ Sophie stood up and went to the window.

  ‘So where does this leave us, ma’am?’

  ‘Maybe not much different than before. Sue Wilding can’t override her chief constable’s decision to allow us access to the investigation. We’ve got a legitimate reason for being here because of the three deaths we’re investigating. In a way, she’s freed us to get on in our own way.’ She turned back to Rae. ‘So, my response is, let’s get busy. We’ll dig deep, make some more visits, rattle a few more cages and see what happens. You okay with that?’

  Rae smiled broadly. ‘Of course.’

  Sophie had managed to get a desk allocated to her and Rae. It was situated in a corner of the CID room, as far away from the incident board as it was possible to be.

  ‘It cuts both ways,’ Sophie said to Rae while they filed statements in the desk drawer. ‘We’re being fr
ozen out of the local investigation, but no one’s supervising us. We’ve got the advantage of all the prior knowledge we’ve built up. We’ve been open with it so far, but I’m not sure how much they’ve really digested.’ She sighed. ‘This is totally ridiculous and so unnecessary.’

  ‘We can still work with Steve Gulliver, can’t we? He seems a decent bloke and tries to be as helpful as he can be. That’s the impression I’ve got of him since I’ve been here. I’ve had to use his local knowledge a few times since Thursday.’

  ‘I’m happy with that. We’re not in some stupid competition with them, for goodness’ sake. Let’s get busy.’

  * * *

  Rae called the Plymouth office of the Dart Valley Estate Agency and spoke to the manager. He confirmed that Matt Brindle was mildly Aspergic, but was a reliable and conscientious worker. The only obvious signs were his inability to look people in the eye when talking to them, his awkwardness in conversation and his anxiety when he had to make decisions under stress. Rae thanked him and sat pondering. These were also common signs of guilt and it was all too easy to mistake one for the other. Of course, it didn’t mean that Matt was completely absolved of all guilt, but it did make it more doubtful. But if he wasn’t guilty of the assault, why had he lied about his journey home? What was he hiding?

  She stuffed a photo of Matt into her bag and made her way to St David’s station. She spoke to five staff members before she found one who remembered Matt Brindle from Saturday. He’d arrived in the morning, and returned to Plymouth in the middle of the evening on the last train scheduled for Plymouth before the line closure came into effect.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Rae asked.

  ‘Absolutely. We had a chat about the engineering works due on the line, then about property prices. He told me he worked in an estate agents’ in Plymouth.’

  ‘And he definitely got on the train?’

  ‘Yep. I whistled it off. Bang on time.’

  Rae walked away, shaking her head. Why hadn’t Matt told them he’d got this train? What was he covering up?

  She returned to the CID office and told Sophie of her findings. Sophie looked just as puzzled.

  ‘Did you get this account verified? Could anyone at the station confirm that our young man was definitely on that train?’

  ‘Not at Exeter, no. But I phoned Plymouth and someone there remembers him getting off the train and going through the barrier at the right time. Apparently Matt Brindle is a regular, and some of the staff know him. He was chatting to a young woman. I really can’t see why he didn’t tell us this himself.’

  ‘Who else was there while this interview took place? It was at his home, wasn’t it?’

  ‘His mother was lurking. She was very nervous, as far as I could tell. She didn’t hide the fact that she hadn’t seen him on Saturday evening. Clearly he arrived home either very late that night or not at all. She couldn’t offer an alibi for him until Sunday morning. He was there at breakfast time.’

  ‘What’s she like?’

  ‘Pretty grim. I’d guess she’s a hellfire and damnation type. There are loads of Old Testament bits and pieces around the house.’

  Sophie glanced at the clock. ‘We’ll need to see him. He’s due to arrive shortly. Meanwhile, we’d better go and tell all this to our shoot-from-the-hip DI, before she makes a complete fool of herself. Brace yourself, ’cause she ain’t gonna be happy.’

  * * *

  To say that Sue Wilding was unhappy at this latest development was an understatement, but there was nothing she could do about it. Not only was the new evidence coming from a senior officer, but she knew she had acted too hastily and had been found out.

  ‘Get a quick coffee or tea and give yourself a few minutes to calm down,’ said Sophie. ‘We’ll then see Matt Brindle together. All you need to do is tell him that a mistake was made and new evidence has come to light. I’ll back you up all the way. I’ll drive him back to Plymouth to give Rae and me a chance to get the truth out of him. I want to know why he lied.’ She paused. ‘Look, don’t worry. I won’t let Tommy or any other senior officer know, as long as you let things rest over the fact that Brindle lied. I don’t want him charged with any trumped up offence, okay?’

  And so the confused young man was taken to an interview room and told he was free to go in exchange for making a full statement within two days, to be given at his local CID office in Plymouth. Sophie bought him a cream cake to have with his large mug of tea, then she and Rae led him out of the police station and into Sophie’s car. Matt sat in the front passenger seat in silence.

  ‘Okay, Matt. Rae here has worked like fury to find out what time you really returned to Plymouth on Saturday, and that’s how we’ve been able to free you. But you’ve wasted a lot of our time with those lies you told, time that could have been spent hunting down Harriet’s killer. So, here’s the chance to redeem yourself. We want to know what you did and why you lied, and if we’re not satisfied, you may well find yourself back in custody for wasting police time. Do I make myself clear?’

  Matt nodded reluctantly.

  ‘So what time did you arrive back in Plymouth?’

  ‘At about nine thirty. I got a train from Exeter just after eight.’ He paused. ‘I decided at the last minute. I didn’t know what to do. I really wanted to stay and see Hattie again, but in the end I thought it was hopeless.’

  ‘What did you do until then?’

  He hesitated. ‘I wandered around. I went to the places we’d been to together, her and me. A couple of bars. Then I sat in the cathedral for a long time. That was where we’d been happiest, listening to the organ playing. She loved organ music. It was there I made up my mind to go home. I felt miserable, but then the walk to the station made me feel better, and a porter at the station cheered me up. We had a chat while I waited on the platform. I was starving hungry so I got a pie from the café.’

  ‘And the train arrived at Plymouth on time?’

  ‘It was pretty fast most of the way, but sat outside Plymouth for a while. The train was busy for that time of night. I s’pose it makes sense. I found out it was the last one to go straight through, but I didn’t know it at the time.’ He sighed.

  ‘Right. That’s the background sorted. Now tell us who you met and what happened later.’

  Brindle squirmed in his seat. ‘Someone I know was on the train, so I sat with them.’

  ‘Singular or plural? You said them.’

  There was a pause. ‘One person. A friend.’ He said nothing more.

  Sophie was growing angry. She was about to give the young man a verbal lashing when she felt Rae’s hand gently touching her shoulder. That was how Sue Wilding had reacted, and look where it got her. Rae was right. If Matt was indeed on the autistic spectrum he would just clam up if pushed too hard. She took a deep breath, grateful to Rae.

  ‘Her name, Matt?’

  There was another long pause. ‘Sally. She’s been a friend for a long time, since primary school.’

  ‘You like her? She’s a close friend?’

  He seemed to relax a little. ‘She’s always been really nice. She’s a student at Reading now, so I don’t see her much. I didn’t know she’d be on the train. It wasn’t arranged or anything.’

  Sophie began to see how to get Matt to open up. Follow up on the little clues he dropped, but in a completely non-threatening way.

  ‘So was she on her way back home?’ she asked quietly.

  ‘Yeah. She’d been to some exhibition in London and was going home to visit her gran. Her parents live near us, but they’re away on holiday. Her gran lives next door to them, but she’s not well. Sally had arranged to spend the day with her yesterday, and cook her meals.’

  Sophie and Rae both saw where this was leading.

  ‘So you walked home from the station with Sally?’

  He nodded.

  ‘And you didn’t go home until much later?’

  Another nod. Sophie realised that it was easier for him to respond by body move
ments and facial expressions rather than with words, but she needed confirmation of her suspicions.

  ‘Did you spend the night with Sally, Matt?’

  His face was bright red. ‘No,’ he said indignantly. ‘How could you think that? I've always found it easy to talk to Sally, so I told her about Hattie and me. She made some coffee and we sat talking for a long time about relationships. We hugged but that's all we did. I felt really mixed up and didn't feel like going home, so she let me sleep in the spare room. I couldn’t talk to Mum about Hattie. She thinks sex outside marriage is a sin. So does Dad. But it was so special, with Hattie. It can’t be a sin, can it?’

  Sophie smiled gently. ‘No, Matt. I don’t think it’s a sin. Not unless you choose to make it one.’

  The two detectives were taken by surprise when Matt began to cry. ‘But I let her down,’ he sobbed. ‘At the time Hattie was attacked I was in Sally's house talking and drinking coffee. I should have been there to protect her. I keep imagining her, bleeding, splashing into the water and sinking. I’ll never forgive myself.’

  Sophie shifted uneasily in her seat. To this young man, Harriet Imber had been almost saint-like, full of vigour and life, someone to be worshipped. No wonder he was distraught at the thought that he’d let her down when she’d needed him most. The problem was, this very same young woman had deliberately engineered the deaths of three people, one of whom had been universally respected. Now wasn’t the time to tell him, but would it ease his own sense of guilt if he discovered the truth about Hattie at some point in the future?

  Chapter 33: Something Bad

  Back in Dorset, Barry received an email from the computer graphics department’s administration office at Bournemouth University, headed ‘Recent Conferences Attended by Mark Paterson.’ Barry opened the attachment and scanned down the list of academic events that the programming specialist had visited. There it was: Exeter University, in July, a mere four months earlier. He needed to follow this up.