The Cold Hand of Malice
Page 27
Twenty-Nine
‘I’m not ruling Susan Chase out as prime suspect,’ Paget insisted after bringing Alcott up to date, ‘but the more I think about it the more I’m inclined to believe that she is being set up. In the case of the Simon Holbrook killing, it doesn’t make sense for her to kill him, then simply walk away without so much as attempting to cover her tracks. And if she didn’t care about being caught, then why would she change her clothes and shoes before leaving the bedroom, and go to the trouble of hiding them in a bin a couple of streets away? And I really can’t see her leaving Laura Holbrook’s rings in the glove compartment of her car. I think they were planted the night the window of her car was smashed.’
‘Along with windows of half-a-dozen other cars,’ Alcott pointed out.
‘To make it look like random vandalism and hide the fact that only one car was being targeted,’ Paget countered. ‘And there are reports on file of vandalism in Tavistock Road that night.’
‘And you think the rings were planted by Goodwin?’ Alcott said.
‘I think there is enough evidence to bring her in for questioning,’ said Paget. ‘Her mother told Forsythe that Peggy has been in love with Holbrook for years. She and Holbrook were partners in the new venture when they left Drexler-Davies – at least I suspect that she looked at it that way – so when Laura came along and not only took away the position she considered to be hers by right, but took Simon away from her as well, Goodwin had every reason to hate her.
‘Women were fascinated by Holbrook; there was something about the man that made women believe him, even against their better judgement, and I think he not only enjoyed their attention, but he enjoyed manipulating them. Forsythe tracked down Valerie Wade, Goodwin’s friend from their schooldays, and spoke to her on the telephone. Wade told her that the real reason she and Goodwin parted company was because Holbrook came round to the flat one day when Goodwin happened to be out and he tried it on with her. Wade said she tried to warn Goodwin about him, but Goodwin wouldn’t listen. They had a row and Wade moved out.
‘Peggy Goodwin would do anything for Holbrook, and I suspect that if he told her he wanted to be rid of Laura, and it was she he really loved, she would have bought it, because she wanted to believe it. In fact, I wouldn’t be too surprised if it was she who came up with the idea of the burglaries after reading in the local paper about the damage done by Chloe Tyler and Davenport in the Dunbar Road burglary.’
‘So you think she killed Holbrook when she realized that he’d been cheating on her all along with Susan Chase?’
Paget nodded. ‘And if by chance she discovered that Simon was planning on turning the company over to Drexler-Davies, after she had worked so hard to make it his own, and that she was to be left out in the cold, yes, I think there is a very good chance than she killed him.’
‘So what are you proposing?’
‘I’ll be bringing Goodwin in for questioning first thing tomorrow morning,’ Paget told him. ‘I don’t expect a confession out of her, but you never know what might turn up during an interview.’
‘Anything back from Forensics on the clothing recovered from the bin?’
‘Maybe tomorrow, but they’re swamped as usual, so I’m not holding my breath.’
‘Oh, you are home, then, Peg,’ said Mrs Johnson, sounding surprised when her daughter answered the phone. ‘And about time, too. You can’t go on working all hours like this, you know. Here it is almost eight o’clock and you just home from work? It’s no good, you know. You’ll make yourself ill.’
‘I’m fine, Mum, really. It’s just that there are so many things to do now that Simon’s gone. Clients want to know where their projects stand; the staff want to know if they will have a job tomorrow, and with virtually everything in the hands of the lawyers, it’s a mess. So, until things settle down, I’ll be spending most of my waking hours at the office. In fact you only just caught me now, because I’ll be going back to the office as soon as I’ve had something to eat.’
‘Well, you don’t sound fine to me,’ her mother said. ‘You sound dead tired, and I think you should stay home and put your feet up. The world won’t come to an end if you do. Let someone else take over for a while.’
‘There isn’t anyone else who can do that,’ Peggy told her. Irritation crept into her voice as she said, ‘Was there anything in particular you called about, because I really do have to get back as soon—’
‘I just wondered if you’d heard the news?’ her mother broke in, ‘but I’m sorry if I’m holding you up. Work must come first, and whatever I have to say will keep till later, when you’re not so busy.’
‘I’m sorry, Mum, I didn’t mean to sound like that. I’m just tired, that’s all. What news?’
‘About Susan. She’s home. She phoned me just now to tell me she’s back home, and to ask about Brandy. She said she’s had a horrible day. They took her straight from the hospital to the police station, where they questioned her for ever such a long time. She said she was sure she was going to spend the night in the cells, but suddenly they told her she was free to go.’
Mrs Johnson clucked her tongue. ‘I knew the police must have made a mistake. I mean I can’t see someone like her doing a dreadful thing like that, and I told that young policewoman as much on Saturday.’
‘What policewoman?’ her daughter asked sharply. ‘What were the police doing there?’
‘Oh, it wasn’t like that, love. She’s that nice one; the one who talked to you after Laura died. She came in for a card for her god-daughter, and we got to talking. She thought Gypsy was Brandy, and—’
‘And she just happened to come into the shop for a card?’ Peggy cut in.
‘That’s right, love, and she picked out the one I like. The one with the kitten under the chair. Remember?’
‘Yes, yes, I remember. But what’s this about Susan? You say the police let her go? Is she out on bail or what?’
‘I don’t think so, love. She said they just told her she could go. She had her knee done in the hospital, and she’s all bandaged up, but she said the tablets the doctor gave her for the pain aren’t working, and she’s having trouble getting used to the crutches, so I didn’t like to ask any more about it. I mean it’s not the sort of thing you ask after someone’s been questioned by the police, is it? And she sounded awfully tired, so I didn’t like to ask her anything else. Anyway—’
‘Look, Mum,’ Peggy broke in, ‘I’m sorry, but as I said, I have to get back to work, so I’ll try to ring you tomorrow. All right?’
‘You’re going to wear yourself out at this rate,’ her mother warned, ‘but I suppose you know best.’ Her tone belied the words. ‘Just don’t go working halfway into the night, or you’ll be no good to anybody.’
The entrance to Susan Chase’s flat was through a separate door next to the shop. The square was all but deserted, the shops were shut, and while the old-fashioned street lights might look quaint and ornamental, they left a lot to be desired as far as illumination was concerned.
Even so, Peggy Goodwin kept her hood up and her back to the square as she pushed the button below the intercom and waited for Susan to answer. No response. She placed her finger on the button and kept it there. If Susan was on crutches she wouldn’t have gone out. Perhaps she’d fallen asleep, but if she had, Peggy was determined to keep her finger on the button until Susan woke up and answered.
Nothing!
Peggy stepped back to the edge of the pavement to look up at the big window above the shop. No light. Perhaps Susan was in bed – or in the shop.
Peggy pressed her face against the glass door of the shop. The blind was down, but there was a gap of an inch or so between the edge of the blind and the frame of the door, and she could see a dim light at the back of the shop. She cupped her hands around her eyes. The light was coming from a partly open door at the rear of the shop.
Peggy rapped sharply on the glass and waited. She banged again, harder, and this time Susan came to the office d
oor to see what was going on. Peggy could see her peering toward the door, but of course the blind was in the way. Peggy bent low to the letter box in the door and pushed open the flap.
‘It’s me, Peggy,’ she called. ‘I came round to see how you are.’
She stood up again and looked through the crack to see Susan start forward. She was moving awkwardly, not used to the crutches yet. Fluorescent lights flickered into life. Susan’s face was pale and set, and she was clearly in pain. She fumbled awkwardly with the lock, then propped herself up on the crutches as she opened the door.
‘I hope I didn’t put you to too much trouble, coming round tonight instead of tomorrow morning,’ said Michelle Marshall as she took Brandy’s leash from Mrs Johnson. ‘But I spoke to Susan a little while ago, and she sounded so down that I thought I’d take Brandy back to her tonight instead of waiting till the morning. And thanks again for looking after her. I’d love to have Brandy myself, but they don’t allow dogs in the place I have now.’
‘It’s no trouble at all,’ Mrs Johnson assured her. ‘And Brandy’s never any trouble either. Good as gold, she is. And I’m sure Susan will be glad to have her back. It’s no fun being on your own when you’re not feeling up to par.’
She reached out from her wheelchair to pat Brandy affectionately. ‘I don’t suppose Susan happened to say anything about what went on at the police station?’ she ventured. ‘I mean like how they treated her. You hear such awful stories these days; you don’t know what to believe, do you?’
‘She was very tired,’ Michelle said diplomatically. ‘And I don’t suppose it’s something she would want to talk about anyway.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Quarter to nine!’ she exclaimed as she began to edge away. ‘I’d better get on, or Susan will have gone to bed by the time I get there. Thanks again, Mrs Johnson. Talk to you later.’
‘It was good of you to come round,’ Susan said as she closed and locked the door. One of the crutches caught on the mat, and she had to hop a couple of steps to prevent herself from falling. ‘God! These wooden crutches are awkward,’ she said through gritted teeth, ‘but they were all they had at the hospital. I swear these things will have me over before I’m done with them. I tell you, Peggy, it’s been a very rough day. The painkiller they gave me at the hospital was supposed to last all day, but it wore off not long after I left the police station. I didn’t want to take another one too soon, so I put it off until a few minutes ago, and as soon as it begins to work I’m going straight upstairs to bed. But that won’t be for a while yet, so come back to the office and sit down. Then, if you don’t mind, perhaps you could help me tackle the stairs.’
The spiral metal staircase was something Susan had had installed at the back of the shop some years ago to allow her to come and go between the flat and the shop without having to go outside each time. Normally, she went up and down it with ease, but it had never been designed with crutches in mind.
With Susan leading the way to the office, Peggy followed, pausing momentarily to find the light switch to turn off the lights in the shop. Susan eased herself into her seat behind the desk and motioned Peggy to take the chair on the other side. ‘Take your coat and gloves off,’ she said, but Peggy shook her head. ‘I won’t stay long,’ she began, when suddenly her eyes began to water and she was seized by a fit of sneezing. She fumbled for a tissue, but Susan was quicker, pulling from a drawer an open box of Kleenex. She pushed it across the desk and Peggy grabbed a handful.
‘Sorry, it’s the allergies,’ she mumbled from behind the wad of tissues. ‘They’ve been bad this year.’
‘Oh, dear, it’s the flowers, isn’t it?’ Susan said. ‘It was good of you to come, but perhaps you shouldn’t—’
‘I’ll be fine,’ Peggy insisted as she wiped her eyes. ‘Sorry about that, Susan. To tell you the truth I forgot about the flowers myself. Silly, isn’t it? Coming to a flower shop and forgetting about the flowers.’ She blew her nose, then looked round for somewhere to deposit the tissues. Susan picked up a wicker basket from beside the desk and held it out for Peggy to drop the tissues in.
‘I really do appreciate your coming,’ she said as she set the basket down, ‘but a flower shop is hardly the best place for you, especially now, so I’ll understand if you have to leave.’
But Peggy shook her head. ‘As I was about to say before that interruption, I shan’t stay long, but I wanted to make sure that you were all right after the way the police treated you. I couldn’t believe it when I heard you’d been arrested last week. I mean how could the police possibly believe that you could have killed Simon?’
‘I suppose they thought they had good reason,’ Susan said with a rueful grimace. She hesitated for a moment before going on. ‘I know this must sound awful, but Simon and I have been seeing each other for some months now, and I was with him until about five o’clock last Thursday morning. They knew that, and I never denied it, but they’re saying that Simon was killed about the same time that I left the house, and they believe I did it. And to make matters worse, they claim they found Laura’s rings in the glovebox of my car.’
Peggy’s brows drew together in a frown. ‘Laura’s rings?’ she echoed. ‘Simon said that they were stolen when Laura was killed, but how did they get into your car? Unless . . .’ Peggy put her hand to her mouth and her eyes opened wide. ‘Oh, Susan, I’m so sorry,’ she said contritely. ‘I didn’t mean . . . Oh, God, Susan, whatever must you think? I don’t believe for a minute . . . But how could they get there?’
Susan rubbed her eyes. She was having trouble keeping them open. The tablets were beginning to work; at least they were making her sleepy, but they didn’t seem to be doing much for her knee, which was throbbing painfully.
‘I think someone must have put them there the other night,’ she said, and went on to explain about finding the windows of her car smashed when she’d left it parked on the street. ‘I thought it had been done by some idiot with nothing better to do, because the same thing had happened to other cars as well,’ she explained. ‘But thinking about it now, I believe those other windows were smashed to cover the real reason for breaking the window of my car, and I think that was when the rings were planted in the glovebox. I’m not sure, but I think that Chief Inspector Paget might be coming around to the same idea. It has to be something like that or I don’t think he would have let me go.’
Susan drew a shaky breath. ‘But to be honest, Peggy, I’m scared to death that they’ll be waiting at the door tomorrow morning and the whole horrible nightmare will start all over again.’
Peggy frowned. ‘But who would do such a thing? Try to frame you, I mean.’
Susan struggled to her feet. ‘I really don’t know,’ she said, ‘and right now I’m beyond caring.’ She adjusted her crutches, then paused. ‘You don’t suppose it could have been Tim, do you? I mean he and Laura never did get on, and he’s the only one I can think of who will benefit.’
‘Well, best not to worry about it any more tonight,’ said Peggy as she stood up. ‘Let’s get you upstairs to bed. Can you manage those iron stairs with those things?’
‘It will be easier for me if I use a single crutch and the handrail,’ Susan told her, ‘so perhaps you could follow me up with the other one.’
She made her way to the bottom of the stairs and switched the stairwell light on before handing one of the crutches to Peggy. ‘Thanks again, Peggy,’ she said with feeling. ‘It was good of you to come, and I shall feel much safer on these stairs with you behind me.’
Thirty
‘Oh, not again! I think there is something very odd about these stairs,’ Grace said. ‘Particularly at this time of night when we’re on our way up to bed. Do you think if I came down again the phone would stop ringing?’
‘Sorry love, but I don’t think it works that way,’ said Paget as he picked up the phone.
Grace sat down on a step halfway up the stairs, elbows on her knees, chin cupped in her hands as she waited to find out if it was yet another c
all-out.
‘Who found her?’ she heard Paget ask sharply. ‘The assistant? Yes, I know who you mean . . . When? . . . But she is still alive? . . . I’ll call at the hospital first on my way in, but I want the shop and flat sealed off and someone posted there. And no one is to touch anything until I get there. Understood? And get hold of Tregalles and tell him to meet me at the shop in, oh, say forty-five minutes or so.’
‘It’s Susan Chase,’ he told Grace as he hung up the phone. ‘There’s a spiral staircase between her flat and the shop, and it seems she tripped over her crutches and fell. Apparently she has a fractured skull. She was found by Michelle Marshall, one of the shop assistants, who had gone round there for some reason. But the prognosis is not good.’
He came part-way up the stairs and took Grace’s hand. ‘I’m sorry, darling,’ he said, ‘but I have to go. From what I’m told, it appears to be an accident, but considering her position as a suspect in the Holbrook murders, I want to make absolutely sure there’s no more to it than that. Michelle Marshall is at the hospital, so I’ll call in there on my way. I could be gone for some time, so don’t wait up.’
Grace eyed him quizzically. ‘Do you have any reason to believe it wasn’t an accident?’ she asked. ‘I mean accidents do happen, and trying to use crutches on a spiral staircase is just asking for trouble.’
He shook his head. ‘No reason,’ he said, ‘and it probably was an accident, but . . .’
‘But you won’t be happy until you’ve had a look yourself, I know,’ Grace finished for him.
‘That’s about it,’ Paget admitted. ‘Anyway, I’d better be on my way. I’ll make sure I lock up on my way out.’
Paget found Michelle Marshall alone in the lounge at the end of the hospital corridor. She sat slumped forward, elbows on her knees, staring blankly into space. She started to get to her feet when she heard him come in, but sank back in her chair when she saw who it was.