It came as a relief to reach her place of work and be greeted on the pavement by Martin, who had got there first in answer to Amos's urgent summons.
“She's fine. She was a bit startled when I barged in, though. I think she's assuming you will explain what it's all about, sir.”
Stevens was a lone worker in a small office. She was putting some files into a briefcase as Amos entered.
“Now what's all this about?” she asked abruptly. “And can we make it quick? I have an appointment.”
"I'm afraid it's rather serious," Amos told her. "Miss Stevens, I have reason to believe that your life may be in danger."
"Nonsense!" Stevens gasped. "Do you think," she started to inject a tone of sarcasm, "do you think someone is working his way round Killiney Court?"
"No, Miss Stevens," Amos insisted. "It is possible that the murderer intended to kill you."
"I can't see why," Stevens commented. "All right, I worked for Ray Jones. But I wasn't employed by him. I have my own business and my own clients. I only check the figures. I don't wheel and deal. Why would the murderer want to kill me as well?"
Amos was put on the spot. He was reluctant to divulge his suspicion for two good reasons. Firstly, it was only supposition, little more than a hunch.
Secondly, there were times in any investigation, especially murder, when it was best to keep some vital pieces of information away from the general public. The murderer could give him or herself away by revealing knowledge of unpublicised facts.
So Amos said simply: "I'm sorry, Miss Stevens, I can't divulge the reason for my suspicion.”
“Has Warren ever threatened you?” Swift asked.
Stevens shook her head. “I’ve not really had much contact with him, even though we live in the same block. I didn’t mix with him socially and just called in his office every six months to check the books. He usually made sure he happened to have an urgent reason to be in London whenever he knew I would be calling. That’s why I didn’t warn him in advance that I was going to pop in last Tuesday to tear his books apart.”
“What about Jim Berry?” Swift asked.
“What, that grubby little man who did Ray’s spying for him? I don’t think he even knew Warren,” Stevens answered, misunderstanding the question.
“I mean, did he have any reason to hate you? Were you, for instance, involved in winding up his old company?”
“That was before my time. Ray wasn’t among my clients then. Or Berry for that matter. I can’t for the life of me see why he should hold a grudge. Nor did he owe me any favours. I can’t see why he would have any reason to like or dislike me.”
Amos and Swift suggested other names of residents in Killiney Court but Stevens was clearly getting bored with the exercise. She showed no greater enthusiasm as Amos produced the lengthy list of business contacts of the late and, so far, unlamented Raymond Jones.
She did, however, go to the extent of marking those whom she had had dealings with, roughly half the roll call.
“Please try to think if anyone on this list, or anyone else for that matter, had any kind of grudge against you,” Amos urged. “Meanwhile, we will keep a female officer stationed in your flat overnight and an officer will escort you during the day. I can assure you my officers will be in plain clothes and will exercise the utmost discretion - although it would be far better for your own sake if you went away for a few days.”
“Impossible,” Stevens said shortly. “Too much work. And how is one person going to protect me? What will they do if someone drives past with a sawn-off shotgun? I just can't see the point. I am perfectly capable of looking after myself. I always have done and I always will."
“If I am right - and I am quite sure that I am - the killer will not strike in such a melodramatic fashion,” Amos said. “Mr Jones was killed in the utmost privacy and the killer will try to strike when there is no-one around. If he knows we have an officer on duty at Killiney Court and accompanying you he will be deterred.
“Otherwise, he will wish to eliminate his next victim as soon as possible. I intend to publicise the arrangement in the local media.
"Don't worry," he added hastily as Stevens opened her mouth to protest, "I shan't say specifically that we are guarding you. I shall say that we are keeping a guard on Killiney Court itself and shadowing all known close associates of Ray Jones. I daren't spread it too widely or it will lose its effect. The murderer must know he can't get at you until such time as we can track him down."
Chapter 25
Stevens finally accepted the arrangement with a bad grace. Being now late for her next appointment, she preferred to acquiesce rather than prolong the debate. Martin tagged on behind her. Having given way on the general principle, she also conceded that the shadowing officer would normally travel in her car and stay overnight within her flat.
Swift was despatched back to county headquarters in Martin’s car to organise a rota with a female officer assigned to the night duties.
"How long do you want the rota drawn up for?" she asked Amos as she was departing.
"Hard to say," he admitted. "Take it for a week and we'll see how we go. I can't see us sorting this one out quickly. Every time we seem to be getting somewhere the net widens again. We don't even know for sure who the target was, let alone the murderer."
Left on his own, Amos found a telephone box and rang Sheila Burns, his contact on the local evening newspaper. Burns had her head screwed on the right way. She could be trusted with a tip-off because she knew if she played fair she would be used again.
“Sheila? Amos. Can we meet quickly? I've an exclusive for you. Will it be in time for the final edition?”
A quarter of an hour later the pair were ensconced in a small café just outside Lincoln. Amos had two cups of tea paid for and on the table when Burns slipped in through the door.
Amos was already talking as Burns yanked her notebook and pen from her coat pocket. She was in her late 20s and talented enough to move on but she preferred the reassurance of her own beat in her home town.
“We have genuine reason to believe that the killer will strike again at Killiney Court,” Amos said quietly but firmly. “I have today taken the precaution of installing a police officer in the building during the hours of darkness. I have also ensured the safety of Jones's known business contacts, especially those living in Killiney Court.
“Don't be too direct but you can speculate that this is likely to include Joanna Stevens, who sometime did accounting work for Jones. Hint at Ray Warren being included since Jones invested in his business. But make it clear without being too specific that Stevens is the main one.
“Don't pin all that on me, please. I'm refusing to confirm or deny this but you can take it that what I've told you is true.
"You can quote me as saying something like: 'There is a dangerous and particularly vicious killer out there and we are taking every precaution to see that this person does not strike again' - the usual sort of stuff. Make something up along those lines, just as long as it's grammatical."
"Are you making any progress in the investigation?" Burns asked.
Amos could hardly blame her for trying to seek out more information.
"It's still early days," he replied without much conviction. "You can say you believe there is a serious suspect but, again, please don't be too specific. A couple of new lines of inquiry have cropped up today and there are people connected with Jones and Killiney Court who will be interviewed again.
"You can say specifically that we have interviewed all the residents of Killiney Court and eliminated those who were away at the time. Also we have been talking to known associates of Jones, both business and religious.
"Get that lot into the final edition and you have an exclusive. I'll hold off Radio Lincolnshire until you've hit the streets. Don't bother checking this out with the police press office, even if you have time. Only you and I know about this."
Burns nodded, took the last remaining mouthful of tea and va
nished. She did not let Amos down, for the story made front page lead in the final edition under a "Killiney Court exclusive" banner, adorned with mugshots of Jones and Amos and "By Sheila Burns" in large type.
"Police fear the Killiney Court killer will strike again, I can reveal exclusively. Inspector Paul Amos, who is in charge of the investigation, is believed to have posted an officer at the block of flats throughout the night to prevent a further attack.
"Police are not releasing the names of those they believe could be in danger but any surveillance is likely to target known associates of murder victim Ray Jones. These include Joanna Stevens, who acted as accountant for Jones on several occasions and who also lives at Killiney Court. Another Killiney Court resident who had business dealings with Mr Jones is Scott Warren.
"Amos declines to reveal specific details of the police operation but he did tell me this afternoon: 'We are looking for a particularly vicious killer.'
"His team have interviewed all the Killiney Court residents and eliminated those who were away on the Friday night that Mr Jones was brutally beaten to death. They have also talked to a wider circle of business associates and to worshippers he knew at the church he attended. I can reveal that several will be interviewed again."
The story then recapped details of the murder. Altogether it made an impressive show, more than enough to get the message across. Even if the illiterate Berry was the murderer, he was bound to hear all about it in the pub.
By the time the newspaper hit the streets, Amos had had the opportunity to brief the Chief Constable, who took the news gloomily but with slightly more equanimity than Stevens had done.
"The fact is," he told Amos rather unkindly, "the fact is that you are no nearer to solving this crime than you were when you started. You've got one suspect you're not getting any further forward with, and you can't hold him.
"Just remember we can't keep personal bodyguards going indefinitely. The sooner we call this one off the better. Keep me informed."
Chapter 26
“Today, Sgt Swift,” Amos announced perfunctorily, “we are going to do something we should have done sooner. Would you get the car please. We are going to obtain a warrant to search Jim Berry’s house.
“We’ll need a couple of constables from the team to take the place apart. It shouldn’t take too long.”
“Shall I get one of them to go for the warrant, Sir?” Swift asked.
“No, we’ll get that ourselves. We can talk over the case as we go. Tell the other two to get round to Berry’s and if he’s there to keep him talking until we arrive.”
Amos was keen to get the warrant himself because no progress had been made on his earlier order for one to be obtained immediately. As Jenkins had explained subsequently, they had not known at police HQ who Jim Berry was, let alone where he lived.
Swift drove and Amos talked, as much to himself, to put his own thoughts in order, as to his junior officer.
“It’s all stacked against Berry. He’s shifty, he looks guilty. He visited Killiney Court regularly. He knew the building. He had every reason to hate Jones. And he would be in the right flat. He knew they had been renumbered.
“And yet it doesn’t quite add up. Something’s missing. He genuinely seems grateful to Jones and sees him as a saviour rather than a villain.”
“He could have got access to Jones’s flat though,” Swift interjected. “If, as Berry says, Jones didn’t want to be seen entertaining a scruffy down and out, he wouldn’t have kept Berry on the doorstep. He’d have got him inside smartish before one of the neighbours saw him.
“Jones would be off guard. If Barry had finally rumbled him and come for revenge, Jones wouldn’t have realised it.”
Swift pulled into the drive of the magistrate who had been alerted to sign the paperwork. They were spotted from the house window and the door swung open as Amos raised his hand to the knocker.
The magistrate was a former school headmistress who had recently retired, a stern woman with a touch of humanity. She raised an eyebrow.
“I see you have turned up in person, inspector,” she remarked dryly. “Should I take this as an honour?”
“It’s always an honour to visit you, Miss Woodward,” Amos remarked unabashed.
“Humph,” she said, looking at the papers. “It’s more to do with the importance of the Jones case than the pleasure of seeing me.”
Amos took the signed documents without a word. His mind was still on the subject. Back in the car he picked up where he had left off.
“Let’s consider who else there is. Warren certainly had a motive. Jones had rumbled him. He’d left a message on the answering machine trying to fix up to see him. Suppose Jones relented and allowed him to pop round to plead his case. No one was likely to see Warren nip next door and back again.
“Foster’s another with opportunity. He could wander around and no one would think anything of it. He would just be doing his job, sweeping the landings.
“He could have gained access to Jones’s flat on a pretext. But what’s his motive? Same with the security guard on duty that night. He had opportunity. We know from Foster he used to wander from his post for a cigarette. He could easily have slipped upstairs for a few minutes instead. Perhaps he’s got some grudge against Jones from a past life.
“The trouble with them all, though, is how did Jones come to be murdered in his bed?”
“Could he have been hit somewhere else in the flat and then moved?” Swift suggested.
“Not with all that blood on the bed,” Amos objected. “That’s where he was killed.”
“Then unless Jones had homosexual tendencies that we haven’t uncovered yet, the murderer was a woman after all.”
“Joanne Stevens,” Amos mused. “Well, she was another with opportunity. Jones could have responded to her message on the answering machine and asked her down to talk over how they were going to deal with Warren. Then she lured him into bed.”
“With an iron bar?” It was Swift’s turn to raise an objection. “How did that get there?”
By now she was pulling up outside Berry’s small and humble home. Amos jumped out and rapped on the door.
Berry’s joy at having an inquisition by two detective constables interrupted was short lived. The smile was quickly wiped from his face as he found Amos on his doorstep with Swift right behind him. Amos brushed passed the muttering Berry and was into the small front room before producing his precious piece of paper.
“It’s a search warrant, Mr. Berry,” he announced briefly. “We are going to search your house.”
Berry made no protest. He sat down in one of the two dilapidated armchairs that had been vacated by a detective constable when Amos had walked in. He said not a word.
“We’ll start upstairs. You can accompany us if you wish.” Amos offered.
Berry shook his head. Amos nodded to Swift to indicate that she was to stay with Berry. If he feared that the latter was about to remove some incriminating piece of evidence he need not have worried. Berry ignored Swift and sat motionless, staring at the threadbare carpet.
Up the narrow staircase with the walls painted lime green, the three male officers found two small bedrooms and a bathroom. One bedroom was empty. The bare floorboards were all firmly laid down and showed no signs of having been lifted. DC Clarke went into the bathroom and the other officer into the bedroom that Berry slept in.
Amos hovered at the top of the stairs where he could watch the search of both rooms. There was nothing of interest in the small wooden bathroom cabinet with a sliding glass front: just a shaving brush and razor together with a toothbrush that had seen better days. There was not even a tube of toothpaste.
The officer took a perfunctory peep into the toilet system.
Suddenly Amos commented: “Stand in front of the cabinet.”
Startled, Clarke did as he was told.
“It’s the only mirror in the bathroom,” Amos went on. “There’s no bulb in the socket. The window to y
our right is the only source of light. That’s why Berry shaves better on that side of his face, Sherlock.”
Amos mooched into the bedroom. The wallpaper was old and floral. Simple red curtains, heavy and faded, hung open. The matching carpet was well worn.
The bed was unmade and a pair of trousers and a shirt were lying on a wooden chair.
The constable had already been through the modest contents of a chest of drawers. Amos opened the door of a single wardrobe, the only other piece of furniture in the room. In the bottom were a pair of shoes with distinct traces of mud. Amos picked them up.
A pair of trousers had similar splashes around the turnups. Amos took possession of these items of clothing and left his constable to check through the rest.
“What exactly are we looking for?” The officer asked.
Amos shrugged.
“Anything that might link him to the murder. Who knows?”
Amos peered into the pale blue bathroom, with its dirty, uncurtained window to the right of the wash basin. Paint was peeling from the wall in places.
There were strips of black mould along part of the rubber sealing where the bath met the wall. The officer in here had unscrewed the side panel of the bath but had discovered nothing except dust and pipes.
Amos plodded downstairs, where he could hear Swift opening and closing drawers. He held the shoes in one plastic bag and the trousers in another. Berry opened his mouth to protest but Amos spoke first.
“I’m taking these in to have the mud analysed,” he announced abruptly.
Dead Money (A Detective Inspector Paul Amos Lincolnshire Mystery) Page 10