A Killing Karma

by Geraldine Evans

  There had been no chance to talk during the post mortem, Dr Merriman disliking what he called idle chatter while he worked, but once they got into the fresh air and away from the abattoir stench, Casey asked Catt how he'd got on during his interviews with Oliver's lovers who featured on their earliest list.

  ‘All three are doing shocked, stunned and saddened to perfection,’ Catt began brightly. ‘Though funnily enough, if one or more of them are merely friends of Oliver’s, they're all very attractive, which I thought a bit of a coincidence. But we don't have to rely on supposition as it was clear from the wary manner of all three that their friendships with Oliver were rather more than platonic. Amanda Meredith, Sarah Garrett and Carole Brown all claim to have been at home between nine and midnight on Friday night,’ Catt told him.

  ‘Any witnesses?’

  ‘Amanda Meredith claims her husband was at home, too, working in his home office at the top of the house.’

  ‘Easy enough for her to slip out then. Mrs Garrett and Ms Brown were both home alone?’

  Catt confirmed it.

  ‘That's a shame. It would have been good to remove some of these women from the suspect list early on.’

  'Mmm. By the way, I thought it might interest you to know that Carole Brown's partner is Max Fallon — no connection to the couple at the commune who did a bunk — you know, the bloke who owns King's nightclub in the town, along with several more nightspots round and about. He flags up on the system as having a tendency to violence, though he's only been charged with the odd petty offence. And, talking of women, let's not forget Mrs Oliver herself. She had even more reason to be jealous than the members of Oliver's harem and their partners. And she's got one hell of a motive. We know she was home alone, too.’

  ‘True. But he'd been unfaithful many times over it seems. Probably for a number of years, too. Why would she suddenly decide to do something about it, particularly something as violent as this particular murder? It would make more sense for her to sue for divorce and take him to the cleaners financially.’

  ‘Perhaps the quantity of extramarital activities became too much to bear and she just flipped.’

  Casey shook his head. ‘No. it doesn't feel right. Besides, taking him for a large chunk of his fortune in a divorce sounds like a far better revenge to me: each time you spent some of it you could enjoy the revenge all over again. And I think, in her case, there would need to be something else other than his women friends to persuade her to murder. Anyway, Tom, good work.’ Casey handed Catt the latest additions to the list of Oliver's lovers. ‘You've done so well I'd like you to check out these ladies also.’

  ‘No hardship if they're anything like the first lot of lovelies.’ Catt took the list and put it in his pocket.

  ‘And I'll need to speak to all three of Oliver's so far un-alibied harem, of course. Set up appointments for me, please.’

  Catt nodded. ‘What about their husbands or partners? They would have a strong motive for wanting Oliver dead. The partners of the women with alibis will also need to be checked out. I wasn't able to speak to any of them as they all work in London and commute. But if I make the first appointments for mid-evening this week, hopefully most of them will be home.’

  Casey nodded. ‘Do that.’

  Casey rang Moon again that evening. He was alone in his office; Catt had still not returned from interviewing the latest batch of Oliver's lovers.

  ‘Anything happened?’ he asked Moon once they'd exchanged the usual greetings.

  ‘Not a lot,’ Moon replied. ‘Apart from the fact that one of the kids has been sent home from school with suspected mumps.’

  Casey swallowed his irritation with this inconsequential information as Moon went on. ‘We're waiting for the doctor to call.’ In spite of her current predicament, Moon managed a laugh. ‘You should see the carry on of the men here,’ she told Casey. ‘They insisted Billy was confined to his room. Apart from Dylan, who’s got other things on his mind since he lost DaisyMay, they’re all terrified they’ll lose their libido, even Star, who lost his a long time ago.’

  Too much information, mum, Rafferty felt like saying. Instead, he said, ‘Understandable, I suppose,’ realizing he would have to humour her if she was to supply anything useful. Moon was not a woman to be rushed. ‘Mumps can have an unfortunate affect on a grown man's fertility.’ He edged the conversation around to the area he did want to discuss. ‘Are the local police still there?’

  ‘Only a solitary constable. And the forensics people are still working on the apple orchard where DaisyMay was found, but I expect they'll finish for the night shortly.’ Moon gave another sly chuckle. 'I think maybe the mumps frightened the rest off.’

  ‘Have there been any more arguments in the house?’ When he had last spoken to her, Moon had told him that everyone at the smallholding was blaming each other for the deaths.

  ‘You could say that. There's been nothing but rows. So much for brotherly love, hey hon? The atmosphere is so lacking in the spiritual that if we were allowed to leave here me and Star would invite ourselves to your place for a bit of peace and love.’

  Casey thanked God for the rigorous restrictions of a police investigation: his home had barely recovered from their last visit. It wasn't that he didn't love his parents; he just preferred to save himself potential career embarrassment by keeping them well-distanced from his colleagues. He was aware that he had been lucky so far, in that only ThomCatt knew of the drugged-up hippie parents. He wanted it to stay that way.

  Casey told Moon to stay calm, bid her goodbye and rang off after reminding her that he would ring again the next evening.

  At least she hadn't managed to misplace the mobile, which was a minor miracle in itself. But they were still making little progress in the murders at the commune. Hardly surprising, given that ThomCatt was kept busy on the official enquiry. But Catt had at least managed to remove Callender's main drug dealer, Tony Magann, from the list of suspects. He still had feelers out with various of his contacts and Casey was hopeful that something might be shaken loose. Meanwhile, he awaited Catt's return from interviewing Gus Oliver's other girlfriends.

  Gus Oliver really had turned out to be something of a local Lothario Catt confirmed on his return. And since a copy of the photo Alice Oliver had produced had been released, the number of ladies ringing the incident room claiming to be his girlfriend had crept into double figures.

  ‘So, what have you got, Tom?’ Casey enquired. ‘Not too many more decent suspects, I hope?’

  ‘Your hope is fulfilled, oh master. All of these latest women that I was able to see were able to provide alibis that were verified by more than one person.’

  Casey was relieved to learn they were beginning to reduce numbers.

  ‘I've got another few yet to see. I'll do that tomorrow.’

  Someone had started a book on how many girlfriends would eventually claim the dead man as their lover. Catt had placed a bet before the likely numbers increased still further. Not having gained his 'ThomCatt' nickname for his sense of curiosity alone, he was moved to observe, ‘Better make sure I never end up dead in an alley, boss, or you'll all be doing eighteen-hour days.’

  Casey smiled. ‘True. But, I suppose, given my knowledge of your habits, I might have the best chance of winning the pot.’

  ‘You might if you actually gambled. No, to avoid you losing out, I'll just have to stay out of dark alleys.’

  ‘Good of you.’

  'I aim to please.’

  By late afternoon the next day, Catt had interviewed the rest of Gus Oliver's lovers and their partners. The latest additions had all managed to provide alibis that had, so far, checked out, as had their partners'. That left the original three to be re-interviewed.

  ‘Even with this latest batch of females seemingly out of the running, we've no shortage of suspects,’ ThomCatt remarked laconically. ‘We've still got three jealous, cheated on husbands, ditto girlfriends jealous of each other, or women spurned, the betray
ed wife, ruthless business rivals. Seems like we've got ourselves the full clutch.’

  Casey nodded. ‘There's also the possibility that we're on the wrong tack altogether. This killing could be a mugging gone wrong and the cutting an attempt to suggest otherwise, especially with the victim's wallet missing.’

  According to Mrs Oliver, whom Casey had telephoned, the wealthy victim had been known to habitually carry large sums of cash in his wallet. ‘Probably didn't want to risk his wife checking his bank and credit card statements for fancy hotel interludes,’ Catt commented before he added, ‘though the mugging gone wrong scenario wouldn't surprise me. Our Mr Oliver strikes me as having been one of life's takers. I don't suppose he'd relish handing over his fat wallet to some thug. Maybe he would have kept his life if he'd been a giver rather than a taker.’

  ‘Maybe so. Still, if that's what happened, it's odd that the body was moved.’ But Casey put that niggle aside for the moment. He would think about it later. ‘Before we conduct a second interview of Oliver’s lovers and their partners, we should question his wife again. It will be interesting to discover whether she admits to knowing about some of these ladies. Let's get ourselves around there to speak to her. Now that we know more about his love life, Mrs Oliver might be more forthcoming. Find Shazia Khan to take with us, will you, Tom?’

  Casey was surprised, when they rang the Olivers' doorbell, that Mrs Oliver herself opened the door. Even though she had laid claim to no family, friends or helpful neighbours, Casey was surprised she hadn't managed to rustle someone up. He decided he would insist on leaving Shazia Khan with her so she wasn't bothered by reporters. Casey, thinking again of the number of women who had rung in to say it was Gus Oliver's body which had been found in the alleyway, waited till they were seated once again in the large, plain drawing room before he attempted to ask any questions. He soon began to feel over-heated by the fires burning in the grates at either end of the room.

  Mrs Oliver apologized for the furnace heat. 'I can't seem to get warm since my visit to the mortuary.’

  Casey nodded understandingly. It was something that often affected him similarly: Catt seemed impervious to the chill factor of such places. ‘We're quite all right,’ he assured her. He paused, and was wondering how best to broach the subject of her husband’s infidelities, when she saved him the trouble.

  After directing a sad smile at him, she said bluntly, ‘As I imagine you've already discovered, Chief Inspector, since you issued his photograph to the media, my husband was a very popular man. Perhaps I should clarify that statement? He was popular with one gender. The female one. He had a lot of lady friends. I imagine that, by now, you must have heard from a number of them?’

  Casey simply nodded and lowered his head in embarrassed acknowledgement.

  ‘There's no need to be uncomfortable, Chief Inspector. I've known about my husband's weakness for a long time. Not that I could be sure with which of his various lady friends he was disporting himself at any one time.’

  'I see.’ Casey glanced at Catt, who raised his eyebrows. Possible motive? the raised eyebrows asked in repetition of his earlier theory. Casey gave a slight shrug of the shoulders that said: Wait and see.

  Now Alice Oliver changed tack and went off in a different direction. It was as if she dismissed her husband's women as no more than his shallow playthings and unlikely to feature on their suspect list. ‘You asked before about possible business enemies. And although my husband never said anything, there must have been some. After all, when a man repeatedly cheats on his wife he's likely also to cheat others. That he had a whole host of enemies seems a likely possibility.’ She frowned then and, as if she regretted her earlier easy dismissal of them, added, ‘Including women he dumped or otherwise treated badly.’

  ‘And do you know the names of any of these ladies?’

  'I can give you some of them. But there are likely to be a few with whom I am unfamiliar.’

  She reached across to the desk beside her armchair, pulled out a pad and pen and proceeded to jot down names and addresses.

  There were half a dozen women on the list. Casey had to admire Gus Oliver's energy and his financial well-being; keeping so many women satisfied on the sexual and spending fronts must be costly in both. Several of the women already featured on their latest lists and had been exonerated.

  ‘There's also his illegitimate daughter, of course. Caitlin Osborne. She was adopted and lived in Liverpool until about two weeks ago. When I rang Caitlin's adoptive parents so they could break the news of her father's death, I learned that Caitlin had left home around then. They have no idea where she might be. I'm afraid she had become rather fixated with Gus. When she was eighteen she managed to trace him. But he didn't want anything to do with her and refused to see her or answer any of her letters. She's something of a sad case. In and out of psychiatric hospitals since her early teens according to her adoptive parents. She's had a few psychotic episodes owing to her drug-taking.’

  Casey, already too familiar with drugs’ unfortunate side effects, nodded sagely and asked, ‘Do you have Ms Osborne's address?’

  She nodded and gave it. Catt noted it down. ‘Though as I said, you won't find her there.’

  ‘Tell me, Mrs Oliver,’ Casey asked, ‘how did you find out the identities of your husband's women friends?’

  'I make — made — it my business to know who they were, Chief Inspector, and what kind of threat they pose —-' again she quickly corrected herself — ‘posed to my marriage.’ She found a smile; it was bittersweet with the pain of her knowledge. ‘I had the advantage over his other women. I knew that Gus was commitment-phobic. Once any of them became clingy and demanding, Gus dropped them. It was strange that he committed sufficiently to marry me. But then, I imagine he sensed that I would be the sort of wife who would put up with his extramarital activities. And having a wife already provides a fine excuse for a man like Gus to avoid deeper entanglements.’ Her voice became even more pained as she admitted, 'I suppose you could say that I was perfect for him. As to how I found out about these women, I hired a private detective, Chief Inspector. I thought, as his wife, I was entitled to know what my husband was doing. Still, it was a shock to discover the extent of his infidelity. I've been planning to divorce him since I received the private detective's report. My husband, of course, had no idea I knew of his doings. He carried on with his infidelities in blissful ignorance that I was aware of them.’

  ‘You said nothing to him?’ Casey asked after obtaining the name of the private investigator. He was incredulous that any woman could keep such knowledge to herself. Perhaps his incredulity was evident in his voice because Alice Oliver shrugged and said, 'I saw no reason to give him time to provide himself with some spurious excuses before I instigated divorce proceedings. I wanted to get my own case ready first and make sure I knew as much about his investments as I could for the financial settlement in the divorce.’

  It sounded remarkably cold-blooded to Casey. But perhaps, with the increasing years of marriage and similarly increasing infidelities, she had become as inured to her husband's behaviour as any woman could be and was, as he had suggested to Catt earlier, determined simply to make sure she was nicely set up for a comfortable future.

  But the way her fingers knotted together in her lap indicated how hurt and diminished she really felt, as did her next words. 'I was never enough for him. I suppose I suspected it from the beginning. But I loved him, so up till now I've put up with his straying.’ She gazed down at her hands, unknotted the fingers and looked up. 'I suppose you think me a foolish woman for cleaving to him through all his infidelities?’ Her voice faltered as she added, ‘And now I've lost him anyway.’

  Casey tried to offer some words of comfort. ‘We all, I suppose, do what we feel we need to do, in relationships as in life.’ His thoughts briefly strayed to his own relationship with his parents. As with Alice Oliver and her husband, Casey knew he had never been enough for his parents. A fact of which he had been
conscious for most of his life. But now was not the time to dwell on that. As the victim's widow, Mrs Oliver was entitled to his full attention.

  But Mrs Oliver had little more to say. She had laid her pain bare for them. Casey thought that all three of them were relieved when they left shortly after, Mrs Oliver's list of her husband's paramours in Casey's pocket and Detective Constable Shazia Khan left behind to fend off the press and to render Mrs Oliver some womanly comfort.

  Chapter Nine

  The next morning Casey had a number of appointments strung out over the day. He had been able to fix up interviews with all four of Oliver's business rivals with whom he was in legal or other disputes. It would be interesting to meet the men involved in these slanging matches with the late Gus Oliver. It would be good if he were able to exonerate most of them. At the moment, between Oliver's now reduced harem, their partners, his unhappy daughter and his business rivals, Casey still had far too large a load of suspects for comfort.

  The first on his list was a Mr Patterson of Kincaid and Co. Like Oliver, he, too, had his offices on the industrial estate. Kincaid's was a smaller concern than Gus Oliver's to judge from the size of the building, but like the others on the list, according to Caroline Everett, they and the other firms dealt in the same line and were forever trying to undercut one another with their suppliers or nobble each other in some other way.

  Mr Patterson turned out to be a tall man and muscular, too, if his handshake was anything to go by. He didn't seem worried about the reason for Casey's visit, which Casey had explained to him over the phone. In fact he was quite welcoming and jovial in his manner.

  ‘Come in, Chief Inspector, come in. Sit down,’ he invited. 'I gather from my secretary that you're here about Gus Oliver's murder?’

  ‘That's right, sir. I'm currently checking into his movements and those of any acquaintances.’

  Patterson nodded. 'I supposed that's why you wanted to see me. Given my various court battles with Oliver, I imagine I must be a prime suspect?’