SECRET CRIMES a gripping crime thriller full of suspense

by MICHAEL HAMBLING

  ‘He’s my nephew. Sarah was my half-sister, although I’m quite a few years younger than her.’

  ‘We didn’t know. . No one in the family has mentioned you. Even so, I can’t believe we missed it.’ Sophie shook her head.

  ‘I’m not really surprised. Sarah and I were never close. We fought constantly when we were children, and didn’t have a lot to do with each other after we grew up, partly because of the age difference. And I haven't been in contact with Hugh for years. But I got on well with Peter when he was young, and when he contacted me with the news of her death, I thought I should come over and give him some support. I used to take him to football matches when I was home on leave, and we had some good talks. I was midway between his age and his parents’, so maybe that made it easier for him to open up to me . . . So if you didn’t know who I was, why were you waiting for me?’

  Sophie sighed audibly. ‘That’s a long story, and maybe it should wait until we have a chance to speak further. What is your role in the army, Mr Renton?’

  ‘I’m an RSM with an artillery and armoured brigade. At the moment I’m training a unit of the Afghan army in mortar use. I’m due to leave the army soon. Since Sarah’s death I’ve been thinking a lot about my future. Everything depends on how Peter is. He’s the real reason I’ve come back. I think he’ll welcome my support. At least I hope he does.’

  Sophie smiled weakly at Renton. She felt like holding her head in her hands.

  ‘Can we give you a lift anywhere, Mr Renton? We’re heading back to Dorset, but we could easily divert to Portsmouth.’

  ‘That’s very kind of you, Chief Inspector, but no thanks. I’ve travelled back from Germany with a friend and we’ve hired a car. And call me John. Please.’

  ‘I’d prefer to keep things on a more formal footing, but don’t take offence. So you didn’t fly directly from Afghanistan?’

  ‘No. I’ve been in Germany for over a week. As I said, I’m due to leave the army in a few months and I plan to train as a church minister. The army organises short courses to help ease people into civilian jobs when they leave. I’ve been on one for servicemen who want to enter the caring professions. It’s being run jointly with other NATO personnel at Bielefeld, our headquarters in Germany.’

  ‘Exactly how long were you there?’

  ‘Ten days. The course finished yesterday. Patrick Adams, the friend I’m travelling with, is one of the facilitators. I’ve known him for years.’

  ‘Well, if you’re not returning to Portsmouth with us, it means that we’ll need to talk a bit longer here. Do you fancy a bite to eat or a coffee? We could visit the café.’ She looked around her. ‘This room isn’t exactly pleasant.’

  ‘A coffee would be fine. I’ll have to start watching my weight now I’m moving into less active work. Can Patrick join us?’

  Sophie nodded.

  * * *

  In the cafeteria Marsh joined the queue at the counter with Renton’s friend, Patrick Adams. Sophie began to question Renton more closely, while Rae took notes.

  ‘I think you noticed our surprise when you told us. We had no idea of the connection between you and Sarah. You must be wondering why we came all this way to meet your flight.’

  Tapping his fingers on the table, Renton nodded.

  ‘You’ll know by now that Sarah’s death was no accident, that she was murdered. You may also know that a couple of days after we discovered her body, the man she was with was also found dead some forty miles further along the coast. They were in Swanage attending the local blues festival and spent the first part of the night together in a hotel. One of the other rooms in the hotel was booked on the same night in the name of a John Renton. He checked in during the early part of the evening, but was not seen again. He vanished that night and didn’t return.’

  ‘But there must be dozens of John Rentons in the country.’

  ‘The room was booked using your credit card details. Your bank gave us access to your statements. Your card was used to book that room, although the bill was paid in cash.’

  ‘And this was last weekend? But I was in Germany then,’ he protested.

  ‘I will need precise details of your location, and people who can corroborate that. The hotel room was booked over the internet some weeks earlier. If it wasn’t you, then someone has used your card details fraudulently. That’s obvious. But until now we had no idea you were a member of Sarah’s family. So, if it wasn’t you, then who knows your card details? Who booked that room? And who used that room for the first part of the night on Friday, nine days ago? Do you have any ideas?’

  ‘No, absolutely not, but I can assure you it wasn’t me.’ Renton shook his head. ‘For goodness’ sake. I fly in, expecting to be helping support Peter, only to find I’m a suspect in his mother’s murder. This is all too absurd.’ He looked up as Marsh returned carrying a tray of coffees and biscuits, followed by Renton’s friend. ‘Pat, where was I on Friday night last week? What was I doing?’

  Renton’s friend frowned. He was tall, older than Renton but handsome in spite of his grey-streaked, stubbly beard. He was tanned, and carried himself with assurance. As he stretched across to pick up a biscuit, Sophie noticed a sticking plaster on the inside of one wrist.

  ‘You were three days into the course.’ Adams spoke with a soft but authoritative voice. His spectacles reflected the sunlight in the room. ‘We’d completed the induction material by then, and we’d moved on to the individual assignments. We gave you all the briefings on Thursday, so you were either in the library or working in your own study.’

  ‘Can you vouch for Mr Renton’s presence for the duration of the weekend?’

  ‘Of course.’ He took a sip of coffee. ‘I need a while to get my head around the exact details, but he was there, I know it.’ He frowned again.

  ‘Have you ever been to Barbados, Mr Renton?’ said Sophie suddenly.

  ‘Barbados? No, not recently. Though I was there a long time ago. I used to play a lot of cricket for an army team and we did a tour of the West Indies some twenty years or so back. That’s how I met Patrick. He was one of the team coaches and we’ve remained friends ever since, even after he quit the army. Barbados was one of the places we played in, wasn’t it, Pat?’

  Adams nodded. ‘I’d forgotten about that. It was a long time ago.’

  ‘Does that count?’ Renton added.

  ‘No. Nothing more recent? Anywhere else in the Caribbean?’ Sophie asked.

  ‘I was on a cruise there about five years ago, along with a girlfriend, but we missed Barbados because of a storm.’ He finished his coffee in several large mouthfuls. ‘That was one of the best times of my life,’ he added, somewhat bitterly.

  ‘But you were never there with Sarah?’

  ‘No. Whatever gave you that idea?’

  Sophie paused for a while. ‘Are you married, Mr Renton?’

  He shook his head. ‘No. I never have been, but it wasn’t a conscious decision. If I’d met the right woman, who knows? But it’s not easy, being in the army and moving around all the time.’ He scratched his arm. ‘Like Sue, the girlfriend I was with on that cruise. She just couldn’t cope with me being away for months at a time on long tours of duty.’

  Sophie nodded. ‘I can understand the difficulties. But what about now? Presumably you’ll be much more settled from now on? Is she still a part of your life?’

  He shook his head. ‘If she wasn’t willing to settle for me in the difficult times, how could I ever be sure about her? She couldn’t have really loved me, could she? Maybe things will be different now, easier for a woman to cope with but with her, there’d always be that doubt in my mind.’

  Sophie sat back in her chair. How should she broach the next set of questions?

  ‘You say you weren’t close to Sarah at all, Mr Renton. Did you know anything about her private life and her recent relationships?’

  ‘Not really. I knew the reason for the breakup of her marriage to Hugh, and his claim that she kept havi
ng affairs. I took much of what he said with a pinch of salt, and we haven't really spoken since. I tried to talk to her about it, to find out the truth, but she made it clear that her private life wasn’t up for discussion. Certainly not with me, anyway. Peter was still a teenager at the time and she knew we were close. I think she saw how important my relationship with him was, and didn’t want to spoil it. That might have happened if she confirmed Hugh’s claims. As for more recently, I’ve been away for so long that I’m out of touch.’

  ‘Was there ever any hint from anyone that Sarah had married again? Maybe secretly?’

  ‘No, never. That’s really a shocker. Good grief. Where have you picked that up from?’

  ‘It could just be rumour, but we have to check it out. So there was never any indication?’

  ‘No. But anyway, I’d be the last to know. It would have only come to me via Peter or Hugh, and presumably they haven’t been able to confirm it?’

  Sophie shook her head. She turned to the other man. ‘So, Mr Adams, have you had time to think about last weekend? Can you vouch for Mr Renton from Friday through to Sunday?’

  ‘He was there all the time, I know it. We had breakfast together on Friday morning. He was in the lounge late on Saturday afternoon, because we watched the football results together. I was in the administration offices for most of Friday, dealing with completely unrelated issues, so I wasn’t present at the course venue. What I can do is give you the names of the other course participants and the other tutor. The librarian on duty will be able to help as well.’

  ‘I didn’t use the library.’ Renton began to look worried. ‘You know that, Pat. I used the web to research my assignment because the topic I was given was unusual. I was in my study for most of the day and only joined the others for a quick snack.’ He paused. ‘In fact, I didn’t even go out with you all on the Friday evening. I was feeling very off-colour, I remember now, and stayed in. I went to bed early that night and slept for a long time.’

  ‘I’m sorry, John. I didn’t mean to land you in it. I feel a complete bastard now,’ said his friend.

  ‘We’d have found out anyway,’ said Sophie. ‘This is a double murder investigation, so we have to cross-check everything and follow up every single lead, every alibi and every statement. People think the police do their work by hunches, second-guessing suspects’ possible motives, but that all comes from television drama, not real-life policing. In reality a lot of it is based on fact-checking, looking for discrepancies.’ She sat up straighter. ‘So we need a list of all the course participants and their contact details, all staff members and anyone else who might have seen Mr Renton during those key hours.’

  ‘Where will you be staying while you’re here, Mr Renton?’ asked Marsh.

  ‘We’re staying in my Portsmouth home for a couple of nights, to give us time to see Peter and his father and check on the arrangements. I’m staying until after the funeral. Pat has to return to Germany in a few days.’

  ‘We’ll need your full contact details and you need to inform us if you decide to go anywhere else. I hope you understand.’

  Renton nodded. ‘As for the other stuff, witnesses who can vouch that I was on the course, I’m sure we can give you most of the names here and now. Pat helped to organise the course, after all.’

  His friend nodded reassuringly. ‘It’ll be fine, John.’ Sophie rested her chin on her hands, looking across the table at this man who had been so difficult to track down. ‘I’ll also need your passport, Mr Renton. I can’t afford to leave you the opportunity to get out of the country before I’ve had a chance to eliminate you from my enquiries. It will remain safely in my possession and I’ll return it to you as soon as I can.’ She looked at him steadily. He returned her stare, sighed and handed his passport over. ‘Thank you for your co-operation,’ she said.

  * * *

  On their way back to the car Barry's phone rang. He spoke very little, merely listening carefully. Finally he turned to Sophie.

  'That was the station. Apparently reception took three odd phone calls this morning, all from the same number. In the first two the caller hung up without speaking. In the last one a woman spoke and said she was in trouble and that she knew Sarah. She was crying and sounded terrified, but she hung up before they could ask her any more.’

  'They'll be tracing the call?' Sophie asked.

  He nodded. 'Should know by tomorrow morning.'

  Chapter 22: Messed Up Lives

  Monday morning

  What was going on? Barry Marsh ran his fingers through his ginger hair as he spoke into the phone.

  ‘No, no one from this unit was asking those questions last month.’ He was getting more than a little annoyed at the belligerent tone of the man on the other end of the line. ‘We’re not psychic. We only start to investigate a murder once it’s happened, not before. Since we’re talking about a death that occurred last weekend, why would we have contacted you before then, before it happened? It wasn’t us, and I don’t know who it could have been . . . The call was about three weeks ago? Did you get a name? That’s great. And did he say where he was from? Okay. Leave it with me. So is it possible to answer my original question now? Can you confirm that Sarah Sheldon booked a twin room for the spring blues festival at your holiday complex?’ He listened. ‘And the other names? Shapiro, Derek or Paul? Yes? Great. Thanks for your help. We may well be back in touch.’

  He replaced the handset and sat looking at it for a few seconds. Then he picked it up and dialled a Gloucester number.

  * * *

  ‘Something interesting, ma’am.’ Barry poked his head around the open door to Sophie’s small office.

  ‘You too? Okay, you go first.’

  ‘Someone else has been asking exactly the same questions as us about Sarah Sheldon’s room bookings at the two music festivals. We already knew about her reservations, but I contacted the Hayling Island one to see if Shapiro had booked a room. They couldn’t confirm it when I spoke to them last week. The manager got quite angry. He said he was fed up with having his time wasted by people asking him the same questions. He was definite that someone claiming to be from the police had asked for that very information a few weeks ago. I double-checked with the hotel at Gloucester where Sarah and Rosemary stayed in the summer, and exactly the same thing happened. One of the receptionists remembers a call from a policeman requesting the exact information I was looking for. Both calls would have been made at the beginning of September, about five weeks ago. The Hayling Island manager even remembered a name, a DS George Smith from Portsmouth. But there’s no such officer.’

  ‘And whoever it was asked about the men too, not just the women?’ asked Sophie.

  ‘Exactly. So someone knew of their existence weeks before the festival here. And if whoever it was knew that much, he must also have known what Sarah was getting up to. Don’t you think?’

  'You're right,’ Sophie said. ‘It is very odd and the implications are worrying. By the way, Rae has managed to trace where those odd calls came from yesterday. Someone called Lily Dalton. She lives in Poole, so we're just about to pay her a visit. Can you hold the fort here? We'll talk more when I get back.'

  * * *

  ‘Was it that easy? To find me, I mean. I thought it would take ages.’ Lily looked at Sophie with a weak smile.

  Lily was like a china doll. She had small, elfin features, a strawberry-blonde bob and she was wearing a neat skirt and top. She can only be about five foot two, Sophie thought. She probably fits into children’s clothes.

  ‘You’re on all kinds of lists, everyone is. Voters roll, council tax, the phone book. It’s not difficult for anyone to trace where you live, even if they aren’t police. And that’s the problem. If you really are in danger, then it would be all too easy for them to find you. I think it took Rae here less than ten minutes.’ Sophie paused. 'Why were you in Paul Derek's flat, Lily?'

  'Brian remembered the photo on the wall, so we went to get it. Brian was in the background o
f the shot, and Paul had written his phone numbers and his address on the back. I was the one in the flat and I panicked when Brian phoned up from the lobby to say that someone was coming up.' Lily looked at Rae. 'He didn’t mean to hurt you. It was an accident. That’s why he didn’t come back with me in the car. He went back to see how you were and when he saw all the blood he was worried about you. I took the car out of the car park and was waiting along the road. He texted me to let me know he was going back up to the flat to check up on you. Then I saw the police cars arriving but I couldn’t get through to him in time to warn him. He left it too late to get away so you caught him.'

  Lily looked at Rae and bit her lip. Rae still had a dressing covering one side of her head and her face sported several colourful bruises.

  ‘She doesn’t look well. I’m really sorry about what happened. Brian didn’t mean to hurt her, I know he didn’t. He went through a bad time a few years ago when he lost his job with the police in Portsmouth, but he’s been a lot calmer for the last couple of years. I didn’t like him much then, but he’s okay now, though I’m still not sure he’s my type.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell us more when you phoned us?'

  Lily sighed. ‘I can’t cope on the phone. I get tense and I go to pieces, and when I get really worried and anxious my voice keeps giving out. And I haven’t slept more than a few hours since Friday, so I’m even worse than normal. I don’t think straight at the best of times and now my brain is one big, fuzzy mess. I wondered about getting away from here, maybe going to London. That way I could really disappear and hide for a while. If I’d been on the phone longer, they’d have talked me into staying, I know they would.’

  ‘But you have stayed,’ Sophie replied.

  ‘Yes, but it was my choice. I have to plan things by myself. Other people always walk all over me if I give them a chance. So I don’t give them the chance any more. That’s how I’ve learned to keep at least some control over my life.’ She looked again at Rae. ‘Are you really alright? Shouldn’t you be in hospital or something?’