"That's the nicest thing anyone has said to me all day," Penelope grinned as she followed him to his unmarked car.
Across town police officers swooped on Savannah the moment she stepped out of the phone box. Daniel and Savannah were immediately taken to the local police station for questioning. Savannah said nothing of any significance but Daniel began to confess and was quick to tell the investigators that he was simply a pawn and an unwilling partner in Savannah's subterfuge. He spoke in quiet tones and seemed stressed.
Savannah, on the other hand, was unhelpful when it came to answering any questions; her manner alternated between irritated belligerence and incredulous jocularity. “I really don't understand what all the fuss is about,” she sighed. She was vague and non-committal throughout her interview. She denied any involvement in the burglary at M&R Photography and also denied trying to extort money from Penelope Garrett.
“How do you explain the items we found in your hotel room?” Detective Leary asked.
“What things?” Savannah asked, still playing dumb.
“How do you explain the laptop and the paintings being in your room at the hotel?” He showed her some photos of the stolen items.
“They are beautiful paintings,” Savannah smiled. “Unfortunately, they’re not really to my taste. I’m more a fan of abstract art. Besides I've never seen those paintings before in my life.”
“We know the items were stolen from the offices of M&R Photography.”
Savannah was adamant. “I don't know anything about any office.”
Detective Leary then showed her the photographs she'd shown Penelope. “Do you recognise anyone in these photos?”
Savannah studied them carefully. “Yes, I recognise that man. He’s Mark McNamara. We’re lovers.”
The detectives immediately pounced on the information and Savannah began to warm to her story. She loved being the centre of attention, whatever the reason. “We've been having an affair for a while! I even visited him on his boat when his wife wasn't there. I’d planned on travelling to France to see him at the end of my visit to Ireland but then Daniel insisted on tagging along so I had to cancel. After all, three’s a crowd.” She winked coquettishly at the officers.
However, the police didn't believe her story. When they checked with Mark he was convincingly scandalised and dismissed the idea as being completely preposterous. Although the police didn't trust Savannah's story of clandestine love, it was the first time that Mark's name had been mentioned as anything other than a victim in the whole extraordinary mess.
The interviews with Savannah were going nowhere fast. She refused to admit to anything and so they decided to organise an identity parade. It was almost midnight when the police started scouring the local pubs to rustle up a suitable line-up. There weren't many petite blonde women with olive skin wandering around at that late hour so in the end the police had to make do with a motley assortment of villagers.
"Would you be able to come down to the police station tonight?" Detective Leary asked Penelope.
"I'd really rather not," Penelope sighed wearily down the phone. "I've had a hell of a day and all I want to do is curl up by the fire tonight."
"Well, I'd appreciate if you came in," Detective Leary insisted. "We've arrested Savannah Kingston and Daniel Williams, the man you met at the hotel today and we need you to formally identify them."
Penelope sat bolt upright on the couch where she'd been slouched for the past few hours.
"I'll be right there," she said decisively. "I want a resolution to this situation and Savannah is the only person who can give us the answers we need.”
"Okay, that's great. I'll see you soon." Detective Leary hung up the phone and sat back in his chair. It certainly had been one of the most eventful few days he'd experienced in a long while but he could almost guarantee that it would take more than a few questions to get to the bottom of the strange situation in which Penelope and her friends found themselves.
He thought it was peculiar that neither Savannah nor Daniel had mobile phones at their disposal. The calls to Penelope had been traced to several public telephones. Detective Leary believed there was one of two possible reasons for not having mobile phones on their person; it meant they could not be traced in Ireland or it was simply a basic error by them. Savannah and Daniel had had to rely on line of sight to maintain contact with each other in Westport town centre that afternoon. However, the surveillance operation was in place and unknown to either of them, their moves had been closely monitored. It was becoming more and more obvious to the detective that he wasn’t dealing with criminal masterminds.
"This is insane!" Jackie cried, staring incredulously from Penelope to Shona as they recounted the incidents of the past few days. "I find it difficult to believe."
"Well, believe it!" Penelope snapped, struggling into her jacket and tying her scarf around her neck. "It's very real to us."
"I'm not saying that I don't believe you," Jackie replied defensively. "I'm just having trouble getting my head around the situation."
"I think everyone should calm done," Shona sighed. "Bickering with each other isn't going to solve our problems."
Jackie and Penelope's relationship was strained at the best of times. They were pleasantly polite to each other but were far from close. It was blatantly obvious they couldn't stand each other and so Shona tried her best to keep them apart. She could see a lot of similarities between the two women and she put their animosity down to a simple personality clash. Penelope didn't like Jackie's slightly smug, know-it-all attitude and Jackie disliked Penelope's vanity and rather dramatic approach to life. However, it was inevitable they would meet from time to time and unfortunately, this was one of those times.
"I'll drive you to the police station," Jackie offered.
"You must be exhausted," Shona protested. "You've already driven four hours this afternoon and you said the traffic from Dublin was hell."
"I'll be fine," Jackie shrugged off her sister's concerns. "I've had a strong cup of coffee and now I'm ready for anything. Besides, you two could do with the moral support."
"Come on, let's get going," Penelope interjected, leading the way outside to the garage where Jackie's car was parked. She carefully locked the house and set the alarm. "I think we've had enough surprise visitors for one lifetime," she said. "I certainly don't fancy the thought of having an unwelcome guest waiting for us when we return later."
"I'll second that," Shona quickly agreed, shuddering at the very idea.
The identification parade was set up at Westport Police Station. Four men and five women were in the line-up, including Savannah Kingston and Daniel Williams.
"That's Daniel," Penelope whispered behind the tinted glass. "He's second from the left."
"Are you sure?" Detective Leary asked.
"I'm absolutely positive," Penelope nodded. "I'll never forget his face."
"Savannah Kingston is third from the right," Shona piped up.
"Yes, that's her," Penelope agreed.
"Okay, ladies, you've been very helpful," Detective Leary smiled pleasantly at them. "I'll contact you both as soon as I have any further information."
"What happens next?" Shona demanded.
"We'll question Ms. Kingston and Mr. Williams and we'll be in touch with you soon. They'll be brought before the district court tomorrow morning and we'll have to wait to see what happens from there. My advice to you both is to go home and try to get some rest."
They followed him back out to the reception area where Jackie was waiting impatiently, then he returned to his office and closed the door behind him. He sat at his desk and considered the events that were beginning to unfold. It had been a long day but intriguing at the same time. He knew there would be an extensive police inquiry and he was already looking forward to the challenges ahead.
The police had no doubt that Daniel was every bit as complicit as Savannah in the scam, but they couldn’t hold him. They released him after two days and he i
mmediately got on the next flight back to England, wondering what his next step would be.
Back in Ireland, Savannah didn’t have the opportunity to plan anything. She was brought before the district court in Westport where she was charged with handling stolen property and was remanded in custody.
This was not the end of Detective Leary's enquiries. Now, he had to get to the bottom of the case. Why had the office of M&R Photography been broken into and what had prompted Savannah Kingston to approach Penelope Garrett and claim there was a contract on the lives of the three wealthy business women? Savannah had photographs of the women as well as Mark McNamara so there had to have been some substance to her dramatic claims.
Daniel had neatly sidestepped the consequences but the police were still keen for Savannah to provide them with some of the answers which they were lacking. She was furious that Daniel had been released. “I've been set up and plotted against! It hasn't all been down to me. Why am I the only one left here to face the music?” she wailed. Detectives wanted to keep her close so she was remanded in custody on theft charges.
Nothing about the case made any sense to the police who were tasked to investigate the extortion attempt. Nobody could understand how Savannah had obtained the photos and why she claimed to be having an affair with Mark.
Meanwhile, Mark was back to being the model husband and was spending most of his time with Rebecca.
Daniel seemed to have disappeared. He'd moved out of the flat he'd been sharing with Savannah and hadn't left a forwarding address or contact telephone number. It seemed that he wanted to put as much distance between himself and Savannah as possible.
However, Savannah wasn't about to let him slip away that easily. She still had plenty of reliable contacts in London and was prepared to use them to track down her former lover. She asked a mutual friend to send him an email, deciding to set a trap for him. She said she'd be back in London soon and would love to meet him. Her plan was to tip off Scotland Yard once the meeting was arranged. There was no way she was going to be the only one facing a prison sentence. Daniel replied quickly, just a single line; “I dreamed about you last night. I can't seem to get you off my mind.”
Clearly, he hadn’t fallen for her plan. Perhaps he knew it was highly unlikely that Savannah would walk away as easily as he had, especially after he had convinced the police what a conniving monster she was. Eventually, Savannah had the satisfaction of knowing that she wouldn't be the only one to face the music. Scotland Yard finally tracked him down but once again he would charm the authorities with his story of coercion. He agreed to cooperate fully with the police; more than happy to make sure Savannah bore the brunt of whatever punishment was heading their way. He proved to be a particularly informative witness and revealed details that began to close the net, not just on his lover, but also on “devils-revenge.”
Chapter 7
The police investigation continued and intensified over the following months, gathering pace as each new piece of evidence emerged. When Savannah Kingston was initially arrested, police had no idea that Mark McNamara was in any way involved. Savannah had told the investigating officers in her early interviews that she'd been having an affair with Mark McNamara. However, she later retracted her statement but Detective Leary was intrigued as to how she knew his mobile phone number from memory. He wondered how she seemed to have so much detail about Mark McNamara and his wife Rebecca. It was information which wouldn't have been easily at her disposal.
Detective Leary was determined to explore every possibility and over the long months of the investigation his team carried out Herculean work. The police in Ireland liaised with Interpol and Scotland Yard. Irish investigators were made aware that Scotland Yard was carrying out their own investigation, independently of the McNamara/ Kingston case, relating to a similar incident in the United Kingdom, which involved Savannah Kingston and Daniel Williams.
The months passed and it seemed that Mark had gotten away with his evil plan. The computer had disappeared without a trace and the police had no solid proof whatsoever of his involvement with Savannah, although they were deeply suspicious of him.
Rebecca was standing by him for now and life appeared to be continuing as usual. Nobody seemed to believe the claim that he and Savannah were having an affair and he insisted that he had been the intended victim of an elaborate fraud.
Then Mark's world suddenly collapsed. Scotland Yard conducted a search of Savannah and Daniel's flat in London, searching for documents which would provide them with a link to the website which advertised Savannah Kingston’s dubious services. They left with a plastic folder in which someone had thoughtfully stored an enticing range of documents. There were emails from Mark and internet booking forms for trips to Ireland and France. Whoever had been corresponding had been very conscientious about keeping records. There was far more in the folder than Scotland Yard actually needed.
They notified the police in Ireland who advised Mark that they wanted to formally talk to him. Mark was in bed when detectives arrived. He didn't hear them immediately when they let themselves into the unlocked door of Cois Farraige shouting his name. He came out of his bedroom in his pyjamas just as they were charging upstairs. A police officer stayed with him while he dressed, despite his protestations that he was perfectly happy to go to the station himself.
He didn't seem to quite grasp the dramatic change in circumstances. It was eventually explained to him that as a suspect it was no longer up to him to go to the police of his own accord. So began an interview process which proved to be intensely frustrating for everyone concerned. Mark McNamara had an impeccable record and had never come to the attention of the police previously. There was no way he could have been familiar with the system in which suspects were interviewed. Any expectations by police who were involved in interrogating him that he might crack under pressure were well and truly dashed as he showed no sign of yielding, despite being put under intense scrutiny in several interviews.
Mark stuck to the story he'd told Rebecca in the aftermath of the robbery. It was a story about a man called Henry Whitington-Smyth, who from Mark’s vivid description bore more than a passing resemblance to a young Gregory Peck. A cynical observer would have thought that Henry Whitington-Smyth was not just an alibi but an idealised alter ego.
He described in detail how Mr. Whitington-Smyth came to visit him in Dublin after they’d been corresponding by email for several months. Police thought it was suspicious that Mark claimed he had been in regular contact with Mr. Whitington-Smyth, yet he was unable to provide a telephone number, email address or postal address for him. Mark told the police that his emails and address books on the computer had been erased. However, it wasn't until some days after the computer had been stolen that his profile was deleted from the missing computer. Investigators thought Mark had deleted the profile, in the mistaken belief it could not be retrieved later.
Mark had advised that Henry was helping him put a portfolio together for potential photography clients in London. However, nobody had ever heard of the enigmatic Henry Whitington-Smyth. How could Mark have brought someone to the office and yet nobody else saw him?
Apparently, Henry had asked to use the computer. Somehow he’d managed to hack the computers; setting Mark up like a rat in a trap. Mark skillfully wove an alibi that ticked every box in the case the police would eventually put together. He described their drive around Dublin, explaining how they’d taken the scenic route along the coast out to Howth Head. He told of a quick visit to Cois Farraige where Henry needed to use the bathroom and had been shown to the en-suite off the master bedroom. The scene was drawn with an imaginative eye and with great attention to detail. He kept his story just close enough to the truth to keep in sync with what could be brushed away as mere coincidence and he stuck resolutely to it.
He said that Henry returned to England and soon contacted him. He rang while Mark was in France and seemed quite irate. Henry said that his apartment had been broken into and among t
he things stolen was his laptop. Mark said that Henry warned him that all the emails they'd sent each other were stored on the laptop. “I didn't think any more about it really,” Mark said. “Not until I started receiving bizarre junk mail which began to worry me. I deleted the first few emails without reading them but then one arrived with Henry's name at the top. The email said that I could be set for life but it wasn't very specific about what that entailed. The phone calls started shortly afterwards, growing increasingly threatening. I can't remember if the calls came from the same person. Maybe it was Henry's girlfriend. The caller claimed that she had Henry's emails, including a particularly nasty email which Mark had written about Rebecca.”
“What do you think this mystery woman or women were planning to do with the emails?” Detective Leary asked sceptically.
“They threatened to send the incriminating emails to Rebecca. I was worried because I knew how much it would hurt her if she found out the sort of things I'd been telling other people about her, so I agreed to pay the blackmailers.”
“Why were the blackmailers using Savannah Kingston's address?”
“I don't know. I just followed instructions.”
Mark refused to acknowledge that he was being treated like a common criminal and insisted on treating the interviews like a rather awkward social situation. He resolutely addressed the officers by their first names, making firm eye contact and grinning at the absurdity of the situation. He kept a white handkerchief clutched in his hands which he kept patting smooth on his knee before folding it over and over on itself as he thought furiously for a way out. As the interviews slowly progressed the handkerchief was folded and unfolded countless times but Mark never stopped talking. The officers struggled to keep up with him and had great difficulty keeping notes of the rapid-fire stream of stories that Mark was providing them.
Unfaithful (The Complete Trilogy) Page 27