by Sally Rigby
‘We knew each other at school, but after he left I didn’t see him again until I was in Coventry attending a funeral. I bumped into him in the city centre. I happened to mention that I was looking for someone to work for me and he asked if he could apply. I said yes. That’s all there is to it.’
He believed her. There was nothing in her body language to indicate otherwise.
‘When you were at school, would you say you were close friends?’ Weston asked.
‘No, we weren’t.’
‘He used to have a thing for you, didn’t he?’ Birdie said.
The woman shrugged. ‘He might have done. It was a long time ago and I can’t really remember.’
‘Would it be fair to say that because of his strength and violent nature you used him to sort out any kids at school who were bothering you?’ Birdie said.
Wood glanced down at her lap, clearly embarrassed. ‘I’m not sure what you mean.’
‘If boys were pestering you, or doing things that you didn’t like, you got him to beat them up. Is that clear enough?’
‘I admit he might have helped me out, the odd time.’
‘I’d say it was more than the odd time.’ Birdie made quote marks with her fingers. ‘I think you knew about his feelings for you and took advantage of them.’
‘Look, we were young and, yes, I might have been a bit of a queen bee at school, but so were lots of others. You know what girls can be like at that age. Aaron left school at sixteen and I didn’t see him after that, as I’ve already told you.’
‘Did you leave at the same time?’
‘I stayed on to take my A levels, and then went on to university and studied journalism. I got a job on a local paper and from there worked for a magazine in London. After that I got into TV work.’
‘And you didn’t have anything to do with Dunkley in all that time?’
‘How many times do I have to tell you? There was no contact between us. Not at all, I promise. I can’t make it any plainer.’
‘Did you take him on to work for you because of your history, and you knew he’d do whatever you asked of him?’
‘I was looking for someone to drive me and someone to do odd jobs and act as security if I ever needed it. It’s not often we get accosted, but occasionally someone might take it too far. I remembered how Aaron was at school and thought I could trust him because of our past.’
‘Did he turn out to be a good choice for the job?’ Weston asked.
‘He’s been an excellent employee and will do everything asked of him, and more.’
‘Mr Dunkley has been arrested for the murder of Donald Witherspoon,’ Birdie said.
Wood’s mouth dropped open. ‘I didn’t ask him to do it, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
‘Did you tell Dunkley that Donald Witherspoon was blackmailing you?’ Birdie asked.
Wood glanced away. ‘I—’ She hesitated.
‘He was blackmailing you, wasn’t he?’
‘Yes,’ she said, her voice a low whisper and her head bowed.
‘Over what?’ Birdie asked.
‘I can’t tell you. Just know that I had nothing to do with his murder, and I certainly didn’t tell Aaron about it. No one else knew.’
‘That’s not good enough,’ Weston said, leaning forward slightly. ‘You can tell us now why Witherspoon was blackmailing you and, if it was the motive for his murder, we want to know your part in it.’
Wood glanced up to the ceiling, her fists clenched tight as they rested on the table.
‘You have to believe me. I had no part in Donald Witherspoon’s murder. I didn’t even know it was murder until you just told me.’
‘Why was he blackmailing you?’
‘I can’t say.’
‘As it stands Ms Wood, we know that Donald Witherspoon was killed by your employee, Aaron Dunkley, who used to sort people out for you at school, because he discovered you were being blackmailed. As far as we’re concerned, you put him up to it. Without any additional information, we have no choice but to charge you as an accessory to murder. How do you think the paparazzi and your fans will like those headlines? Or would you prefer them to say you helped us solve a heinous crime and lock up a dangerous man instead?’ Weston snapped.
Wood shuddered. ‘Okay, but this is to go no further.’ She looked from Weston to Birdie. ‘I’ll be ruined if it gets out.’
Could there be a better motive for murder?
‘We can’t promise anything, but if it’s possible, we will keep it quiet,’ Weston said, his voice much gentler than before.
She cleared her throat. ‘Many years ago, when I was at university, money was tight. My parents weren’t rich, and they couldn’t help me financially. I had a part-time job at a local pub but got fired over some missing money. It wasn’t me who took it but they wouldn’t believe me, and I lost my job. I was desperate and when somebody approached me to do some modelling work, saying it would be easy money, I jumped at the chance. Who wouldn’t? Stupid me didn’t realise the sort of modelling they meant. It turned out to be an adult film. I should have walked away as soon as I found out, but they offered me five grand for doing it. Five grand. That was a huge amount of money all those years ago, especially to a student who could barely feed herself. I accepted the job, and it was the worst experience of my life. I’ll never forget it for as long as I live. But I forced myself to get through it and the money I earnt helped me through university and paid off a lot of my debts. Afterwards, I put it to the back of my mind and never thought about it again. Until …’
‘Witherspoon saw it?’ Birdie asked.
‘Yes. He came across the film and thought he recognised me from the TV. I had no idea it was still out there. I really thought it had just gone away. I’m still not sure how he made the connection as I don’t look anything like I did eighteen years ago. My hair was a different colour and much longer. I was also ten pounds heavier. But recognise me, he did, and he got in touch.’ She bit down on her bottom lip.
Donald was a conniving bastard. How could he have done something like that? Sarah might not agree, but the more Seb got to learn about the man the more convinced he was that she was well rid of him.
‘How did he contact you?’ Birdie asked.
‘He emailed, making a very clear reference to the film, and asking to meet. I went into a mad panic and had to agree. I had no choice. We met in a restaurant in London, and he suggested that I might like to invest some money with him. He told me outright that if I didn’t, he was going to make the film public, selling the information to the highest bidder, and ruin my career. I begged him not to, and said that I couldn’t afford it, but he didn’t believe me. He said he knew how much I was being paid at the TV station and that if I didn’t have the cash, I could borrow it. I had no choice but to say yes. I invested the hundred and fifty thousand pounds he asked for.’
‘Where did you get the money from?’ Birdie asked.
‘I cashed in a term deposit I had at the bank and used that.’ She slumped down in her chair; all the fight having gone out of her.
‘Did you tell Dunkley?’ Weston asked.
‘I didn’t tell a soul. It was too important to risk confiding in anyone.’
‘Well, clearly, Dunkley did know. How?’
‘I have no idea, unless he heard me on the phone to Witherspoon sometime and worked it out for himself. I was very upset at the time.’
‘Did he drive you to your meeting with Witherspoon?’
‘Yes, he did.’
‘Are you sure you didn’t confide in him after the meeting? You were upset, you’d known Dunkley for most of your life. He’d be an obvious choice to tell.’
‘No, I definitely didn’t.’
‘Why do you think he waited until April to deal with Witherspoon when the blackmail actually took place in January?’ Birdie asked.
That very same question had been on Seb’s lips.
‘Witherspoon tried to get more money out of me a couple of weeks before
his death. But I said no. I didn’t have any access to any.’
‘Did he threaten you again?’
‘No, he seemed to accept that I couldn’t help.’
This wasn’t ringing true. Why would Donald back down so easily, after initially being so aggressive?
‘Can you give me the exact date of the phone conversation,’ Birdie asked.
‘I remember speaking to him on Friday 26 March at four in the afternoon. I was on my way back to Market Harborough for the weekend.’
‘And the time before that?’
‘January when we sorted out my investment. It was all done electronically.’
‘Please could you show me the call log on your phone so I can verify this.’
‘I left my phone at work, when your officers came. I forgot to pick it up.’
‘Yet you remember the date you spoke to Witherspoon.’
‘It was my wedding anniversary and I remember thinking it typical that the two men I hate most in the world were connected by that date.’
‘Did Dunkley know about this second attempt to blackmail you?’ Weston asked.
‘How do I know? If he’d been listening to me on the phone, he might have done. You’ll have to ask him.’
‘So, the call came through when you were in the car. Did Dunkley drive you all the way to Market Harborough on that Friday?’
‘He took me to the station and I caught the train as it’s quicker at that time of day.’
‘Is Dunkley still in love with you?’
‘Again, you’ll have to ask him.’
‘How did you feel when you found out Donald Witherspoon was dead?’ Birdie asked.
‘I’d lost my money, and even though I’d told him there was no more, I still worried that he might disclose the film. That’s the trouble with blackmail. It continues. It never stops. I was glad when he died.’ She paused. ‘I’ve changed my mind about not having my solicitor present. I’m not answering any more questions without her.’
It surprised Seb that she hadn’t decided to ask for her solicitor sooner, considering the direction the interview had taken.
‘We have finished with our questioning for now. You can go, but we’ll be interviewing you again, at which time you’re welcome to call in your solicitor to be with you,’ Weston said.
Seb waited until Andrea Wood had been escorted from the interview room and then went into the corridor to meet Weston and Birdie.
‘I think she was involved,’ he said.
‘I was thinking the opposite,’ Weston said. ‘What’s your reasoning?’
‘Do you really think that Donald would’ve given in so easily after she told him she didn’t have the money? He was a desperate man. He’d extorted what he could out of his brother Edgar and his friend Tony Yates. He genuinely knew they couldn’t pay him more. I can’t see him not being more persuasive with Andrea.’
‘That’s for us to sort out. You’re no longer part of the investigation,’ Weston said.
‘But—’
‘We’ll bring her back in for questioning after we’ve reinterviewed Dunkley. Your work here is done.’
Chapter 43
21 May
The phone was ringing on Birdie’s desk when she walked into the office and she ran over and picked it up.
‘DC Bird.’
‘It’s Tim,’ the guy from forensics said. ‘I’ve downloaded what’s on the phone you gave me.’
‘Great. Can you send over the call log straight away as we’re about to interview the suspect. I need from before Christmas until the last entries, which should be the day he died.’
‘Sending it now.’
She ended the call and within a minute her email pinged and she opened it up. She scrutinised the list of calls, of which there were hundreds, wishing that she had Seb’s super memory. That gave her an idea. She pressed speed dial on her mobile for Seb.
‘Clifford.’
‘It’s me. I’m in a hurry but hoped you could help. I need all the phone numbers we have for Andrea. I’m assuming they were in Donald’s files.’
‘No problem,’ he said, and then proceeded to rattle off three numbers: mobile, studio, and home in Market Harborough. ‘I take it you now have the records from Donald’s phone.’
‘I’ve got the call log for the last few months.’ The phone on her desk rang again. ‘Gotta go, the other phone’s ringing. Thanks so much for your help. I’ll fill you in on everything soon.’ She ended the call and answered the other call. ‘DC Bird.’
‘Dunkley’s solicitor has finally arrived, it seems she was caught up with another case and wasn’t expecting to be called back. They’re in interview room two,’ the sergeant on the front desk said.
‘Thanks, we’ll be down in a minute.’
She printed off the call log, stuck it in a folder, and went to collect Sergeant Weston. She tapped on his open door. ‘Dunkley’s solicitor is here, she’s with him in one of the interview rooms.’
He stood up, took his jacket from the back of his chair, shrugged it on and headed out of the office, with her following. ‘Remember, our main objective is to find out whether Andrea Wood was involved, or whether she really was ignorant of what he’d done.’
When they entered the room Birdie immediately recognised the duty solicitor next to Dunkley, as she was often at the station. The expression on her face was one of complete disinterest.
After they sat down, Birdie started the recording equipment.
‘Interview on 21 May, those present Detective Sergeant Weston, Detective Constable Bird and …’ Sarge nodded at the two opposite him. ‘Please state your names.’
‘Gillian Griffin, solicitor for the accused.’
‘Aaron Dunkley.’
‘Mr Dunkley, there are a few things we’d like to explore, following your previous interview,’ Sarge said.
‘You’ll be wasting your time, he muttered, I’m not saying anything else.’ Dunkley folded his arms and looked away.
‘We interviewed Andrea Wood earlier and she had a lot to say.’
Dunkley sat up straight in his chair and glared at them. ‘Why? I've already told you it's nothing to do with her.’
‘She told us all about the blackmail. Do you know what Witherspoon was blackmailing her over?’ Sarge asked.
‘I don't know and don't care.’
‘How do you know she was being blackmailed?’
‘I’ve already told you that I overheard a conversation she was having with Witherspoon. She'd already given him some money and he’d come back for more. That’s all I needed to know. My job was to protect her and that’s what I did.’
Birdie gave Sarge a little nudge, to indicate that she wanted to ask some questions, and he nodded.
‘Let’s go back to when you overheard the conversation between Andrea Wood and Donald Witherspoon,’ She leant forward and pressed her hands on the folder in front of her on the table. ‘What date was this exactly?’
‘Um …’ He glanced upwards and to the side. ‘It was on a Monday morning when I was driving Andrea to the studio.’
‘Could you be more specific. What month?’ she pushed.
‘March.’
‘Hmm, late March,’ Birdie said, opening her folder and taking a look at the records in front of her. ‘If it was a Monday it would be the 29th.’
‘Yes, you're right. That's definitely it,’ Dunkley said, sitting back in his chair, appearing relaxed.
‘So you overheard a conversation on Monday, 29 March, and then decided that you were going to go and sort Donald Witherspoon out?’
‘Yes.’
‘What did sorting him out mean?’
‘I phoned him up, pretending to be a client and asked to meet him. He suggested the Foxton Locks pub.’
‘When you went did you intend to kill him?’
‘I was just gonna warn him off but he was acting like a right prick showing me all these investments and making out he was something special and better than me. I told him I w
as going to invest a hundred grand and made out it was illegal money. He didn’t care, all he had was pound signs in his eyes.’ The solicitor tapped him on the arm and he turned to her. ‘What?’
‘There’s no need for you to be saying all this. Wait until it gets to court.’
Birdie held her breath hoping he wouldn’t listen.
‘I don't care. I'm gonna to tell them what happened. I told Witherspoon that I'd parked in the top car park and asked for a lift up there, which he was quite happy to do. When we got up there, I told him I knew about the blackmail and it should stop or he’d be sorry. The bastard laughed in my face. I took out my gun and pointed it at him. He stopped laughing then. He was shitting himself. I made him write a suicide note to his wife, then I forced him out of the car and onto the wasteland. Then …’ he held out two fingers. ‘Bang.’
Birdie flinched.
‘Why did you move his car to the village?’
‘So he wouldn’t be found straight away.’
‘And you say that Andrea knew nothing about this,’ Birdie said.
In her peripheral vision she saw Sarge looking puzzled.
‘Why do you keep going back to that? I keep telling you, I overheard a phone conversation on Monday, March, whatever date it was. And after that I decided to sort him out.’
‘What you say is very interesting because I have Donald Witherspoon's phone records here.’ She held out the pages. ‘He didn't speak to Andrea, on Monday, as you said. He spoke to her on Sunday, the day before. You and Andrea should have got your stories straight. She said Friday, you said Monday, and it was actually Sunday. That’s crucial because we know she wasn’t in London that particular weekend. So you couldn’t possibly have overheard the conversation.’
‘That’s it. I'm not saying anything else,’ Dunkley said, his lips set in a flat line.’
‘You don't need to. We have enough to convict the pair of you.’
Chapter 44
21 May
‘Well done, Birdie,’ Sarge said slapping her on the back. ‘Brilliant work. I'm proud of you.’
Warmth rushed up her cheeks. He rarely gave out praise, most of the time it was the opposite.