One to Watch

by Rachel Amphlett

  ‘We found it in a safe deposit box that Sophie had at a bank here in Maidstone.’

  He exhaled, his relief apparent. ‘I wondered where it had gone. I thought maybe her mother had found it.’

  ‘Her mother didn’t know anything about it,’ said Kay. ‘She was quite surprised to see it. I’ll arrange for it to be returned to you as soon as possible.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Kay finished the call, then picked up her pace and wound her way past the stone-clad walls of the Bishops Palace and down towards the footpath that ran alongside the river. She stood for a moment, and watched a pair of ducks paddle their way across the water, four diagonal lines following in their wake, before she turned right and back in the direction of town.

  A woman with a toddler in tow appeared in front of her, and Kay stood to one side to let them pass on the narrow path.

  The woman smiled and murmured her thanks, before her attention was taken up by a happy chortle from her daughter as she spotted the waterfowl on the other side of the river.

  Kay thought back to Matthew and Diane Whittaker, having to collect their daughter from the morgue and organise a funeral, and realised that despite her own loss, she couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for the sixteen-year-old’s parents to have to endure such a tragedy.

  She was jolted from her reverie at the sound of her mobile phone ringing. Pulling it from her pocket, she frowned as she saw Sharp’s number displayed on the screen.

  ‘Guv?’

  ‘I need you back at the station. Where are you?’

  ‘Down by the river getting some fresh air. What’s wrong?’

  ‘Matthew Whittaker just turned up here demanding to speak to us. Says he thinks his wife murdered their daughter.’

  ‘I’ll be right there.’

  Kay stuffed her phone back into her pocket and took off at a sprint.

  Reaching the police station, she swiped her card and burst through the doors, took the stairs two at a time and launched herself into the incident room.

  Sharp’s conversation with Carys died on the air as he saw her approach.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she said, trying to catch her breath.

  ‘We’ve got him in interview room one,’ he said as she shrugged off her jacket and draped it over the back of her chair. ‘You’ll do the interview with me. We haven’t been able to locate Larch at the moment so Carys left a message for him.’

  ‘How do you want to do this?’

  ‘We’ll let him talk, see what he has to say for himself.’

  Kay nodded and followed him from the room. ‘I have a feeling the marriage is in trouble, guv.’

  ‘Okay, so this might just be vindictive, is that what you’re saying?’

  ‘It’s something we have to bear in mind, yes.’

  ‘All right, good point.’

  He led the way down the stairs to the interview suite and swiped his card over the security panel. ‘He didn’t nominate his own solicitor, so I’ve got one of the duty solicitors to attend. I want this done properly, Kay. If he’s telling the truth, then I don’t want Larch breathing down our necks for not following procedure.’

  ‘Understood.’

  He placed his hand on the door to the interview room and raised an eyebrow. ‘Ready?’

  ‘Ready.’

  Fifty

  Matthew Whittaker sat, arms folded across his chest, his eyes downcast as Kay and Sharp entered the interview room.

  Kay remained silent as she took the chair next to Sharp, and waited until he’d pressed the record button and formally cautioned Whittaker.

  Sharp gave a curt nod to the solicitor and then clasped his hands together on the table and leaned forward.

  ‘Now, Mr Whittaker, when you arrived at the reception desk forty minutes ago, you told our desk sergeant that you wished to make a statement, is that correct?’

  ‘That’s right. I think my wife murdered our daughter.’

  ‘That’s a very serious accusation, Mr Whittaker.’

  The man blinked.

  Kay spread out the annual accounts Carys had compiled for Matthew Whittaker’s business on the table in front of her, turning them so the rows of numbers faced Sophie’s father.

  ‘You’ve had some business ups and downs, Mr Whittaker.’ She stabbed her finger on one document that was several years old. ‘You were nearly bankrupted by the dot-com bubble, yet you’ve always managed to fight your way back.’

  ‘I’m good at what I do.’

  ‘I don’t doubt that. The question is – are you good enough?’ She tapped the latest reports. ‘Seems to me you’re doing little more than treading water these days. How is that affecting your relationship with Diane?’

  ‘What? What’s that got to do with it?’

  ‘Answer the question, Mr Whittaker,’ said Sharp.

  Matthew sighed. ‘All right, well, I guess Diane will probably tell you. Our marriage is over.’ He ran a hand over his head. ‘It wasn’t brilliant before we lost Sophie, but since then it’s deteriorated.’

  ‘That can happen with families of victims,’ said Sharp. ‘Are you seeking help?’

  The man shook his head. ‘Honestly, unless it involved financial help, Diane wouldn’t be interested.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘No, I think she’s come to the conclusion that she’s managed to suck me dry of everything I’m worth to her – my business is struggling, you’re right there, Detective – and she’s looking elsewhere for help.’

  ‘What about her inheritance?’ said Kay. ‘When the Earl died, didn’t he provide for you?’

  ‘Him?’ Whittaker emitted a bitter laugh. ‘Not a hope in hell. You should’ve seen Diane’s face when the will was read out – the man had racked up so many gambling debts he’d had to re-mortgage the house to pay them off. She was lucky she had a roof over her head at all.’ He clasped his hands together on the table. ‘Sometimes I wish she had lost the house.’

  ‘What about her mother?’

  ‘Diane’s mother died within a week of the Earl. Diane always maintained it was due to a broken heart, but it was more likely the gin consumption that finished off the old bitch.’

  ‘Was Sophie aware of your marriage problems?’

  Tears welled up in his eyes and he angrily brushed them away. ‘It was never about Sophie. It was always about trying to save Diane’s bloody house. You know it’s falling down? I spent every penny I earned trying to renovate the place, but it’s rotting from the inside out.’ He snorted, his gaze falling to the table between them. ‘Just like the woman I married.’

  ‘Mr Whittaker, the fact that your marriage is breaking down isn’t the reason you’re accusing your wife of murder, is it? What proof do you have?’

  Whittaker shrugged, but said nothing.

  ‘What’s your relationship with the Hamiltons like, Mr Whittaker?’

  ‘Relationship?’

  ‘Yes. Did you socialise with them outside of your church obligations?’

  ‘Well, yes, we met at different functions to do with mine and Blake’s businesses, and occasionally we’d have dinner with each other.’

  ‘It went further than that, though, didn’t it? Blake Hamilton was going to help bail out your business once Sophie got engaged to his son.’

  Whittaker’s eyes fell to his lap. ‘I only found out about that after Sophie died. It was something he and Diane had arranged.’

  ‘How did that make you feel?’

  ‘Feel?’ His head shot up, his expression incredulous. ‘How the hell do you think it made me feel? She’d sold our daughter! My little girl. I hated her for it. I still hate her for it. Do you know what we did this morning, Detective?’

  Kay shook her head, but remained silent.

  ‘We were discussing our divorce. I filed for bankruptcy this morning, and apparently that’s too embarrassing for Diane and her bloody airs and graces.’

  He wiped at his eyes and sank into his seat, exhaustion sweeping his features.

&nbs
p; ‘What makes you think Diane killed your daughter?’

  ‘She must’ve found out she was sleeping with Peter, and that she was pregnant.’

  ‘Yet, she seemed as surprised as you to find out about Sophie’s pregnancy,’ said Sharp.

  Whittaker snorted. ‘She’s a great actress, Diane. Very convincing. I’ve already told your colleague here,’ he said waving a hand in Kay’s direction, ‘Diane went to drama school in London. Trust me, I’ve seen how she can convince people.’

  Sharp sighed, and leaned towards the recording equipment. ‘Interview suspended at three-fifteen,’ he said.

  Fifty-One

  ‘What the hell is going on, Sharp?’

  Larch’s voice echoed off the walls of the corridor as he strode towards the team gathered outside the interview rooms.

  Kay paused, her hand against the doorframe of the observation suite where Barnes and Gavin sat, having watched the interview with Matthew Whittaker in order to provide feedback.

  Carys hovered at the threshold, her eyes wide.

  ‘We’ve reasonable suspicion to bring Diane Whittaker in for formal questioning,’ said Sharp, his voice calm as the DCI glared at him. ‘Her husband has suggested she killed Sophie.’

  ‘Why on earth would Lady Griffith kill her own daughter?’ said Larch.

  ‘We don’t know that she did,’ said Kay. ‘But she’s certainly been a busy woman, that much is for sure.’

  ‘Explain yourself, Hunter,’ said Larch. ‘And make it quick.’ He glared at Kay before turning his attention back to the interview room monitors, his hands thrust into his pockets and his jaw clenched.

  Kay took a deep breath. ‘Okay, well this is how I see it. Somehow, Diane comes to an arrangement with Blake Hamilton that he’ll help her out with the ongoing upkeep of Crossways Hall, if she agrees to make Sophie marry Josh. That way, she gets to keep her family home, and Blake gets his son the aristocratic kudos he’s so desperate to cultivate.’

  ‘And everyone lives happily ever after.’

  ‘Yeah, but Sophie gets pregnant. She panics – suddenly she’s faced with the reality that she’s in way over her head. She’s due to take a purity pledge to remain chaste until she marries, she’s making that pledge on the same day she’s getting engaged to Josh Hamilton, and she can’t talk to anyone about it.’ Kay paused in an attempt to fight down the adrenalin enough so she could explain herself to her senior officer. ‘What if Sophie wasn’t the one blackmailing Duncan Saddleworth?’

  ‘But we already know it was – we found the cash in her possession in the safe deposit box.’

  Kay rubbed at her eye. ‘Sophie was the blackmailer to start off with,’ she said patiently, ‘but after she was killed, Saddleworth received another letter, but Blake Hamilton and Felix Ashgrove didn’t. Someone else knew Sophie was blackmailing him, and decided to do the same to make some money, but didn’t know about the others – that’s why they haven’t received any.’

  ‘Has it occurred to you Sophie could’ve arranged for the letters to be delivered before she died?’

  ‘It was hand-delivered. That means there was someone else involved. Peter Evans denies all knowledge of the safe deposit box, and he seemed genuinely surprised when I told him. Seems to me Sophie found a way to make some money in anticipation of them leaving the country.’

  ‘Hunter, there wasn’t enough money in that safe deposit box to warrant killing someone – there was only a few thousand pounds.’

  ‘But what if Sophie’s killer found out about it, and figured they needed the money more?’

  ‘What’s that got to do with the Whittakers?’

  ‘Matthew Whittaker has admitted their house is falling down around their ears, and his business is about to go into voluntary administration within weeks – you’ve seen the state of the financial records.’

  Larch sighed and turned away from the monitor. ‘Still too tenuous, Hunter.’

  ‘Wait, let me finish. Sir.’

  ‘Go on,’ said Sharp, and held up a hand to stop Larch interrupting again.

  ‘When Barnes and I first spoke to the Whittakers, Diane told us that they overheard Sophie talking to Eva about Peter Evans – that’s when Barnes had Diane show him where she was standing on the terrace. It got me thinking while we were interviewing Matthew Whittaker – if Diane knew she could eavesdrop underneath Sophie’s bedroom window, what else did she hear?’

  ‘You think Diane found out Sophie was pregnant and killed her because she’d spoiled her plans to marry her off?’ said Barnes.

  ‘That’s what Matthew alleges. In the circumstances, we’ve got no choice but to interview Diane Whittaker.’

  ‘Bloody hell, Hunter. You’d better be right about this,’ said Sharp.

  ‘I agree,’ said Larch. ‘The political ramifications if we’re wrong could end our careers.’

  Kay caught Sharp’s eye, but he shook his head. The only one worrying about his career being ruined by Diane Whittaker’s links to local people of influence was the DCI.

  Sharp cleared his throat and followed Larch’s gaze to the interview room monitors, then sighed. ‘It’s a long shot. However, I agree we should question her under caution – to eliminate her, at least.’

  ‘I’ll head over there now,’ said Kay and headed towards the door. ‘Come on, Barnes. House visit.’

  Fifty-Two

  Kay yanked the handbrake and released her seatbelt.

  ‘This place looks more rundown every time I come here,’ said Barnes, straining his neck to view the house through the passenger window. ‘I don’t know why people insist on living in houses like this if they can’t afford to keep it looking nice. I mean, what’s the point?’

  ‘I guess it’s partly to do with keeping up appearances.’

  ‘That’s not going to last long,’ said Barnes. ‘You heard they dismissed the gardener the other week as well?’

  ‘Finances must have been bad for a long time.’ Kay stared out the window, a frown creasing her brow at Barnes’s comment, and a thought crossed her mind. It would mean changing her tactics slightly, but she knew Sharp would support her, if it came to that.

  The question was, would Larch?

  ‘Come on,’ said Barnes. ‘Let’s do this. The sooner we get her down the station, the closer we are to finding out what the bloody hell has been going on around here.’

  ‘Couldn’t agree more,’ said Kay, and reached out for the door handle before climbing out.

  She raised her gaze over the roof of the vehicle as a marked car pulled up beside them, and two uniformed officers joined her on the gravel driveway, their bright fluorescent waistcoats painfully bright under the sun’s glare.

  ‘Round the back, you two,’ she said. ‘We’ll be bringing the housekeeper in for formal questioning as well, so make sure no-one leaves through the tradesman’s entrance, got it?’

  ‘Sarge.’

  The elder of the two placed his cap on his head and led his colleague across the driveway and down the side of the building, the crunch of their boots on gravel subsiding as they disappeared from sight.

  In the distance, Kay could hear a tractor negotiating the narrow lane, its engine revving as it climbed the slight incline at the end of the driveway. Above, a hawk fluttered on the breeze and she was struck by the sense that the house seemed to be in a vacuum, waiting for her to tear down the façade its owners had created.

  ‘How do you want to do this?’ said Barnes.

  ‘Formally,’ she said. ‘Larch will have my warrant card for this if I don’t. I don’t know what’s been going on in this house, but none of it’s good.’

  They walked side by side towards the front door, and Kay frowned. The front door was ajar, and raised voices could be heard from within.

  ‘After you.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  She pushed the door open and entered the dark hallway. Straight away, she noticed the bare walls, and a gap where once an oak-panelled dresser had taken up one wall.

&n
bsp; ‘Moving out?’ murmured Barnes.

  ‘Or selling to stay.’

  Footsteps carried from the far end of the hall, beyond the curve in the staircase before fading away and Kay realised the housekeeper would be returning to the kitchen as the two uniformed officers appeared at the back door.

  She headed towards the formal conservatory where she’d first questioned Sophie’s parents, and knocked on the door.

  Diane’s face appeared at the gap, and she reared back, startled to see them standing there.

  ‘The front door was open,’ said Kay. ‘We tried to knock, but—’

  ‘I didn’t hear you,’ she said. She swung the door open and peered out. ‘Where’s Grace?’

  ‘Mrs Jamieson?’

  ‘Yes – didn’t she meet you at the door?’

  ‘I don’t think she heard us.’

  ‘Oh. Will you come in?’

  Diane remained poker-faced, but her whole stance exuded defiance as she hovered near one of the chairs.

  ‘What do you want?’

  Kay’s eyes met those of Barnes, and he gave a slight nod. There would be no easy way to do this, and so she may as well get on with it. ‘Caution her, please, Barnes.’

  ‘Diane Whittaker, I’m arresting you on suspicion of causing the murder of Sophie Whittaker...’

  Kay studied the woman’s face as Barnes spoke, and noted that she appeared flustered.

  Good, she thought.

  She glanced over her shoulder as the younger of the uniformed officers appeared, the housekeeper behind him while the older officer brought up the rear.

  ‘Have you cautioned her?’

  ‘Yes, Sarge.’

  ‘Put Mrs Jamieson in your vehicle. Mrs Whittaker will be coming with us.’

  ‘I want to speak to my husband,’ said Diane, her voice shaking as the housekeeper was led away. ‘This is preposterous. I demand to know what’s going on.’

  ‘We’ll explain at the station,’ said Kay.

  ‘I want to call my solicitor.’

  ‘Again, you can do that at the station.’ She stepped to one side and gestured towards the waiting cars. ‘After you.’