by Jac Wright
‘Good, good, and thank you. Why don’t I let you get started with your questions, Mr. Stavers? David and I shall use them as guidance to outline the events of interest to you.’
‘I’d like to start with when and how you first came to hear about our client, Jack Connor, Mr. Smith.’ Harry opened his notebook to a fresh page and got down to business.
‘I answered your father-in-law’s, Mr. Douglas McAllen’s, initial enquiries via his solicitors McKinley Laird on . . . let me see . . .’
Smith picked out a notebook from the stack his assistant had put down next to him and flipped through it.
‘Well, on the 7th of July. It was Mr. Magnus Laird who called me and who outlined the work that his client Mr. Douglas McAllen needed done. David and I took the train up to Birmingham to meet them on the 8th of July. Ronnie McAllen, Mr. Douglas McAllen’s son, was also present at the meeting.’
Smith paused to pull out a ring binder about three inches thick marked “McAllen Operations I” in which part of the documentation on Jack was methodically filed.
‘It was the week after Caitlin and Douglas McAllen had received the anonymous letters about Mr. Connor’s, er, alleged affair with Michelle Williams. We were given copies of the letters and the photographs of Mr. Connor and Miss Williams included with them. The instructions to us were to track Michelle Williams and report any further personal contact she has with Jack Connor.’
Smith removed the letters and photographs he had from a plastic sleeve in the file and passed them to Harry.
‘David has made copies of all these for you.’ Smith waved his right hand over the paperwork with the fingers of spread out. ‘Mr. McAllen has waived client confidentiality and has given us permission to provide you with all the information the police would have found here using their search warrant.’
Which clearly excluded anything that the police had not found, Jeremy made a mental note.
Harry flipped through the letters and photos. Jeremy could see Jack shifting uncomfortably in his seat, trying to sink deeper and deeper into the plush leather cushion and growing red with frustration that the glass table offered no place he could hide under.
‘Our strategy was to put a tail on Michelle Williams from dawn to whenever she went to bed at night. We were on your tail, Mr. Connor, from the 10th of July to the 14th of October, the day of Michelle Williams’ death. I rotated David and two other investigators along with myself for this job. Our daily logs of your movements of interest are in these log books. The photographs that we took and other documentation that we collected—credit card payment slips, restaurant bills, letters etc.—are filed here.’
Smith pushed the thick stack of notebooks and the ring binder towards them. Jack emerged from under the table to take a look at the photographs after Harry shot him a question.
‘So, you were watching Michelle Williams and Jack Connor the Wednesday and Thursday the 13th and 14th of October, the duration of primary interest in this murder?’ Harry turned back to the investigators.
‘Yes. I was personally tailing Mr. Connor most of the time. David took on the tail from me from time to time.’
Jack pulled out a few of the photographs he was shuffling through.
‘Some of these are the photographs with which Caitlin and my father-in-law first confronted me, though they told me that these had also been sent to them anonymously in the post. I was unaware of your presence, Mr. Smith. I knew my in-laws were getting on-going reports of some sort, but I thought it was Sally, a co-worker and an ex-girlfriend, who was sending them anonymously. I had a few raging fights at work about them and I ended up firing the co-worker. I might have spotted a white van possibly following us parked outside Michelle’s house, but I was never sure.’
Jeremy shook his head at his friend’s irresponsibility. He took these troubles he brought on himself out on poor bewildered Sally, he thought. No wonder that poor girl had had a breakdown.
‘We have a fleet of cars that we rotate and we hire others from a rent-a-car firm. I was, in fact, aware of the white van tailing you also, Mr. Connor, but that wasn’t us. It was a big, bald guy, heavily tattooed, a skull on his left hand, a scorpion wound around the back of his neck.’
‘Skull!’ Jeremy wrote on the writing pad he had before him and pushed to towards Harry, at which Harry glanced and nodded.
‘Did Douglas McAllen inform you about this other guy he says he put on their tail?’
‘Not directly. In fact I have a couple of photographs of him from our watch right here. When I put these before Mr. McAllen he made it clear this man’s appearance and movements were to be ignored. Thereafter we figured he might have others complementing us on the job and purely focused on the task we were paid to do. I pulled out the photographs featuring this guy into a different folder, which I had in a boot of one of our fleet of cars. So the police haven’t seen these.’
Smith passed an envelope from a folder marked “Background & Residual”. Jeremy slipped the pictures out of the envelope. This was the man that both Gavin and McAllen had described, Skull. He remembered Gavin’s tale, the trouble this guy had put Gavin and his mother through all those years ago. This was a thug whose appearances seemed to forebode terrifying experiences for his targets. Gavin had escaped him by acquiescing to McAllen’s demands, and before him even Gavin’s loan sharks had been scared enough to back off. If Michelle had tried to resist acquiescing to his demands . . .
‘This guy first made an appearance about a week after we started. He was in direct contact with Michelle. We have seen him on her tail and seen him going into her house. She let him into the property. We never made any direct contact with anybody. We were a passive “ghost” tail and we took great care that neither you nor anybody else spotted us. In fact we rented the second floor maisonette opposite Michelle Williams’ house as our base of operations. We are trained to track people who suspect themselves to be watched, Mr. Connor. Such a ghost tail costs more, but Mr. McAllen was unconcerned about the costs. By the way, we suspect that the girl who lives in the ground floor maisonette was the one who took the original photos sent to Caitlin McAllen Connor. She was the friend who found Michelle’s body and called the emergency services. We had to be very careful because she knew Michelle Williams.’
‘Strange.’ Jack was puzzling over the photos of Michelle clearly letting Skull into the house. ‘Michelle never mentioned having ever met a man like this.’
Seems like Michelle was up to a lot of things Jack never suspected.
‘You are clearly a man of interest and intrigue, Mr. Connor, for this guy was not the only one following you. You had another private eye on you, clearly a professional. If Skull seemed like a somewhat clumsy hired gun, an amateur, this guy was the opposite. It was impossible for even us to remain hidden from him, let alone follow him. The main man spotted us immediately after he arrived on the scene about a few days after we did. We kind of acknowledged each other as fellow professionals and went about our own work.’
Harry perked up with interest.
‘What did he look like? When did he make an appearance on the scene?’
‘An average-looking guy, he was always in a white shirt and grey trousers, occasionally in a grey jacket. Kept watch from his cars mostly, which he changed every few hours like any professional would. He had a couple of guys of his own to pick up the tail whenever he went off his watch. Smoked like a chimney. Cigars, not cigarettes. I have a single shot of him here.’
Smith pulled out a photo from the “Background & Residual” folder featuring a guy in an old Toyota, giving the photographer the middle finger.
‘The police haven’t seen this one either, though we have given them a verbal description.’
Cossack and GrayHounds spying for Caitlin!
‘I tried my best to tail this guy to satisfy my own curiosity, but they were too good for us. Always shook us off,’ David added.
‘Yeah, well, that wasn’t all,’ Smith cut in quickly, not liking their client
s’ pondering on their failures for long. ‘Then there was this tall guy. Looked like a model or a basketball player. He first appeared about a month after we first got there, following you, Mr. Connor, in a grey Honda. I’m not sure if Michelle knew him. He got very close to you at times, following you two into supermarkets and shops and lining up directly behind you at checkouts. Michelle smiled at him behind your back a few times. He wasn’t there very often, about once a week. We figured he was a jealous ex-boyfriend or something.’
Smith paused. Jeremy exchanged a surprised glance with Harry at finding Gavin Hunter at the scene of the crime. He had to laugh at this. Jack imagined he was the love of Michelle’s life and there she was trying it on with Gavin Hunter, who she would not have been able to resist, as well as Alan Walters behind his back.
‘Did he ever make any face-to-face contact with Williams, like go into her house?’
‘Well he was very bold if he were a stranger to Michelle. He helped her to take her shopping to her car when he managed to catch her alone in the supermarket one Saturday. He followed her home, helped her carry her bags in, and managed to get himself invited to stay for tea or coffee. He disappeared for a while after that and did not reappear until the day before the murder, that time in a light disguise-in dark sunglasses and a hooded top. He was staying out of sight and we’ve seen him snapping pictures of you two on his phone.’
Smith paused and searched his visitors’ faces.
Jeremy kept on a stony face with great effort.
‘It must be some old boyfriend or a stalker hitting on Michelle. Guys were always hitting on Michelle, in shops, supermarkets . . . everywhere. I had to keep fighting them off with a stick. He could not have been important. Michelle never mentioned him to me,’ Jack said, laughing nervously.
She was a player, a better player than any man I’ve known, Jeremy reckoned. She was playing Jack and trying to play Alan and Gavin behind his back. Somebody killed her because of it.
‘Well, you are a popular guy, too, Mr. Connor, because the next people to appear on the scene were your son and ex-wife, Peter and Marianne Connor.’
‘Peter and Marianne were following us? Oh God! When?’
Jack sat up in the seat that he had been sinking deeper and deeper into.
‘It was about 5 p.m. on Wednesday the 13th of October, the day before Michelle’s death . . .’
Smith picked out a logbook from the pile and flipped through the pages over his notes.
Harry turned to a fresh page on his notebook himself.
‘I’d like to take you through the timeline from that point on Mr. Smith. This is the time frame of prime interest in this murder, and I need to know every possible detail.’
‘Of course, Mr. Stavers, we are both on the same page about this,’ Smith agreed. ‘Well, we were on your tail that day, Mr. Connor—David here on Michelle and myself on you—outside the Marine Electronics offices about noon that day. You came out for lunch and drove to Marianne Connor’s house. You were there only briefly, but it was clear that you were having a big argument with Marianne Connor while inside. Your youngest son, Marc, was still at school, but Peter tried to intervene, or he joined in with some input, whereupon you stormed out of the house and drove back to your office.’
‘We were fighting about Michelle, the finances, and about Marianne dragging the children into it.’
Jack looked distressed and clearly troubled by the revelations of his son’s and Marianne’s involvement. Jeremy observed Harry touching Jack’s hand to remind him of his advice not to admit to or say anything that Blackmoon could give in evidence at a trial.
Smith slapped date-time stamped photographs on the table in front of them at regular intervals as he related his tale.
‘Peter showed up about a quarter of an hour before 5 p.m., driving his Audi, at the Marine car park. He got out of the car as you came out of the office building, but stopped when he saw Michelle following you. He got back in his car and followed Michelle and you out of the car park. As you did so our basketball player, who had been parked around the corner, also picked up his tail behind Peter. We joined the tail a few cars behind him. Quite a procession.’
Smith was now trying to cover up his laughter by taking a sip of water, which he nearly choked on, bursting into a fit of coughing.
‘Excuse me.’ He turned away from them, covering his mouth with a handkerchief.
‘You all right, boss?’ David patted his back softly. He gestured to a passing secretary with one hand, raising his bottle of water.
You’re not the only one to find this funny, mate. Jeremy chuckled to himself.
Smith recovered and resumes his tale.
‘Yeah. Well, Michelle and you drove to the Morrisons supermarket in Fratton and headed over to Miss Williams’ house shortly after that. Peter followed you and remained in his car, watching the house parked on the opposite side of the street. Mr. Dragon Tattoo kept watch from a distance, but lost interest and left about 7:30. I parked close to the entrance to the street and returned to the watch from our base opposite the Williams house on foot.’
The female receptionist interrupted them to bring in fresh bottles of water and glasses. Everybody poured himself a fresh drink.
‘Everything remained quiet till about 10:30 p.m.. As it fell dark Peter got out of the car a few times and paced up and down the street. Finally, about 10:30 p.m. he got tired of waiting for you and walked up to the house with a determined stride through a steady drizzle that had been falling for about an hour by then. It was dark and the house was now dimly lit. Through the living room window we could see Miss Williams and you. Peter must have seen something that clearly upset him. He ran back to his car and drove off, his tires skidding.’
Smith paused.
Jeremy’s mind flashed back to his drive in Peter’s car, the young boy taking his anger out on the pedal of his car.
‘We were relaxing by the electric fire. Shit! Peter would have seen us together through the window.’ Jack wiped his face with both hands.
‘At 11:03 p.m. you came out of the house, kissed Miss Williams good night, and drove off in the direction of your house. All the lights in the house went off at 11:26 p.m. As I then walked to my car and drove off from our watch I thought I saw Miss Marianne driving back in Peter’s car. Peter could have been in the passenger seat, but I wasn’t sure.’
Smith closed his logbooks and looked up to find the three of them listening with consumed attention.
The office suddenly felt stuffy. Jeremy noticed only then that it was not air conditioned, though the air-conditioning units were visible. It was aired through windows left slightly ajar. David broke the silence by walking to the closed window of the room and propping it open as if he had read Jeremy’s mind. A cool draft blew through the room.
‘Could you say whether Peter or Mr. Model could have posted anything through the door?’ Harry asked, as if suddenly brought back to life by the cool breeze.
‘Well, yes, it is possible though I did not especially see it being done. I could have easily missed it. The front path to the door was only dimly lit by the yellowish streetlight and the drizzle was heavy at times. Of course anybody could have returned to the door again after we left and introduced the chocolates to the scene of the crime. We weren’t commissioned to watch any of them, you see; only to watch Mr. Connor’s contacts with Michelle Williams. So when Miss Williams went to sleep, we left.’
Harry nodded. Jack had sunk under the table again.
‘We picked up our tail again at dawn, about six the next morning, with myself returning to Michelle’s house because of the activities the night before, and David picking up Mr. Connor’s tail at the McAllen-Connor house. The activities of interest resumed shortly after 7:00 a.m. again.’
Jeremy could see that Jack was finding this a difficult experience. He wondered why Harry had though it necessary to bring Jack along for this. Was Harry keeping an eye on his reactions?
‘Mr. Connor and his wife
left the house for work driving the Polo and the BMW SUV respectively; Mrs. Connor left about 7:15 a.m. and Mr. Connor, about 8 a.m. with me on his tail,’ David volunteered helpfully.
‘In the meantime, the activities of real interest started at Miss Williams’ house, where I was on my watch. A couple of minutes past 7 a.m. the big man with the skull and scorpion tattoos drove up in his white van and knocked on Miss Williams’ door.’ Smith turned their attention back to himself. ‘He rang the doorbell a few times and then looked through the post box once or twice. Then he reached under the mattress and let himself in with a spare key.’
This brute was right there during the timeframe of Michelle’s death. He’s got to have had something to do with this murder, Jeremy thought.
‘Michelle left that key there all the time. I should have stopped her,’ Jack said.
‘So Michelle Williams was not available to answer the door at 7 a.m. on the day she died?’ Harry voiced the question they all wanted asked.
‘Well, we have pondered this ourselves. She might have called out and asked the guy to let himself in, especially since he was looking in through the letterbox. Michelle Williams normally set off to work in her car about 8:15 in the morning. I got the impression that, having left her car parked in the Marine car park overnight, she was expecting Mr. Connor to pick her up the next morning. She might have thought the ring on the door was Mr. Connor’s.’
‘Yes, I was going to pick Michelle up on my way to work that morning, but I forgot because I had had a fight and a night of cold friction with Caitlin. I was late and drove to work in a state of great stress and sleep deprivation,’ Jack explained.
All this corresponded to Caitlin’s account of events also, Jeremy noted.
‘I realized Michelle wasn’t in only about an hour after I got in. I rang her a few times to ask her to take a taxi in, but my calls went unanswered. I waited and tried her for a while longer, thinking she might be in the shower or she might have gone out for milk or something. When I couldn’t get through for over an hour I decided to drive over. I left Marine about 10:05.’