‘Is your father still alive?’
‘Oh yes. He’s getting on a bit now but he’s still pretty good for his age.’
‘Does he know about the accident?’
‘Not yet. I spoke to Mark after I got to the morgue and was told I couldn’t see John’s body because they couldn’t get him out of the van. Reading between the lines I had the impression that his face is pretty badly smashed up – is that true?’
‘There’s too much blood about to be able to see him clearly,’ said Sukey diplomatically. ‘It makes sense to wait until they’ve cleaned him up.’
Grayson nodded. ‘I’m sure you’re right. Anyway, Mark and I agreed not to say anything to Dad until …’
‘You want to be able to tell him exactly what happened,’ said Sukey. ‘That’s quite understandable. And as I think you’ve already been told, we won’t know the answer to that question until we’re further on with our enquiries.’
‘Has Romeo – John, I mean – been keeping in touch with you?’ asked Vicky.
‘Oh yes, he calls us regularly on his mobile. We all live in London and if he happens to be anywhere near he makes a point of coming to see us. He puts on a fake Cockney-style accent to fit in with the image he’s built for himself, but he knows it upsets Dad so he drops it when he comes home.’
‘Does he come in his van?’
Grayson gave a rueful half smile. ‘Oh yes, much to our embarrassment. He arrives after dark and parks it on the drive at whichever house he’s visiting. We were all horrified the first time he turned up in it. Dad wanted to buy him a car and live at home, which he refused because he preferred living like a vagrant, so then the three of us offered to club together for a better quality van. He wouldn’t accept anything from us – said he could cope on his own.’
‘Which as you say he’s been doing by busking,’ said Sukey. ‘We’ve learned that from Justin Freeman, who organized the musical event that Romeo – John, that is – has just been to. Did you know about that?’
‘Oh yes, he’s always kept us up to date with his movements,’ said Grayson. ‘We know about Freeman, of course, although we’ve never had occasion to contact him ourselves. John did, however, say something about this particular booking that Mark and I have agreed you should know. Mark is in Germany on business at the moment, by the way, but he’ll be back on Wednesday.’
‘Please go on,’ said Vicky. ‘John said something that you think might be significant?’
‘Yes. He’s mentioned a man called Rainbird who comes to Freeman’s events and seems to have really got up his nose.’
‘Yes, he told us about Rainbird and how he’d said something derogatory about his voice that made him very angry. What else has he said to you?’
‘He rang me on Saturday morning and said he’d arrived at his latest venue and he sounded really chuffed. He said, “It looks like the bugger’s bitten off more than he can chew and I might make something out of it.” I asked him what he meant and he said he’d talk to me when he knew a bit more. That was the last time we spoke. When they told me what had happened to him … and his van … and how badly …’ For the first time, Grayson appeared overcome with emotion; his voice failed and he covered his eyes with both hands. ‘I can’t tell you what a dreadful shock it’s been,’ he said when he had regained his self control. ‘He was my brother and I loved him very much. We all loved him – for all his odd ways he was a good, kind man.’
‘I think we all had that impression of him,’ said Sukey. ‘When he spoke to you on Saturday, did he explain who he was talking about and what he meant by “might make something out of it”?’
‘No. All he would say was he’d tell me later. Although he didn’t say who “the bugger” was I had a feeling it was Rainbird. Have you any idea who it might have been?’
‘You didn’t know that Rainbird was found drowned in the lake in the hotel grounds on Friday evening?’
Grayson’s jaw dropped. ‘Good heavens! No!’ he exclaimed, evidently shocked at the news. ‘Whatever happened?’
‘We don’t know yet,’ said Vicky, ‘but for the moment we’re concentrating on the accident to your brother. We – DC Reynolds and I – spoke to him on Saturday morning. We found him in a lay-by a short distance from the hotel. He told us he’d arrived that morning, but we have reason to believe he arrived some time on Friday evening, so after his recital we went along to the lay-by to have a further word with him. We were surprised to find that he had already gone. Did you by any chance hear from him after about five o’clock on Saturday afternoon?’
Grayson shook his head. ‘No, and I wasn’t expecting to. What made you think he was, well, not speaking the truth about the time of his arrival? Could he have made a mistake?’
Sukey explained about the overnight rain and the state of the ground under Romeo’s van on Saturday morning. ‘We wondered why he was in such a hurry to get away, although it might have been because the light was fading and he didn’t like driving in the dark. Freeman didn’t know where he was going next and his mobile was switched off. The next thing we knew was that there had been this dreadful accident and we won’t know how it happened until the van has been righted and your brother’s body brought out. So far no other witnesses have come forward.’
There was a short silence while Grayson appeared to be mulling over what Sukey had told him. ‘Perhaps,’ he said, ‘that by saying that Rainbird seemed to have bitten off more than he could chew John meant that he was dead. But I’ve no idea what he could have meant by “making something out of it” – unless he saw a chance to make some money. And that would mean he saw what happened to Rainbird and that someone else … my God!’ he exclaimed. ‘Is it possible that Rainbird was murdered and that John saw what had happened and was planning to …?’ He broke off as if the word that came to mind was too repugnant to associate with a beloved brother.
‘You think he might have been planning a spot of blackmail?’ said Vicky.
‘It’s an ugly word, and I hate the thought of my brother stooping so low,’ said Grayson. ‘It isn’t as if he was in need of money – as I’ve explained, we’ve all offered to support him and he’s always refused any financial help.’
‘Well thank you very much, Mr Grayson,’ said Vicky. ‘You’ve certainly opened up another possible line of enquiry for us.’
‘You’ll let me know as soon as I can see my brother?’
‘Of course; in any case we shall need you or someone else from your family to identify him. Are you planning to go home now or stay somewhere local?’
‘I’m going straight home. Dad will start asking questions if I’m not there at the usual time this evening.’
‘Is he on his own during the day?’
‘Yes, except for the “Meals on Wheels” people who bring his lunch. He doesn’t venture out on his own, but he has one or two friends who take him to the pub or call in and sit with him.’ Grayson sighed heavily. ‘John’s death is going to hit him very hard.’
As soon as he had left, the two detectives returned to the CID office, where they were told that Rathbone wanted to see them immediately. He listened carefully while they reported on the interview with Grayson and made notes on his pad. ‘It’s beginning to look as if there was a fatal attack on Rainbird,’ he said. ‘If this Romeo chap spoke to the attacker in the hope of getting some hush money out of him it’s a classic motive for murder, which would suggest that the brake fluid pipe was deliberately disconnected. But if Romeo lost control of the van for another reason it could have come off in the accident, so we still have to wait for the tests to be complete. Meanwhile, we’ve received another piece of the jigsaw. A colleague of Rainbird has come forward, saying he has something to tell us that might shed some light on his death.’
NINE
‘His name is Morgan Ashman and he’s a senior partner in Ashman, Lee and Edwards, an old-established firm of accountants,’ said Rathbone. ‘Their head office is in the City of London and Lance Rainbird has been w
orking for them for the past five years. According to Ashman, he was made redundant from a previous job and was lucky enough to be taken on by his firm.’
‘Presumably he lives in London,’ said Vicky. ‘Do you want one of us to go and see him?’
‘He’s planning to come here tomorrow,’ said Rathbone. ‘He wants to see exactly where Rainbird died. He wouldn’t say why – said he’ll explain when he gets here.’ He sat back in his chair and chewed the end of his pen. ‘Nothing in this case seems to make sense,’ he grumbled. ‘I think we might as well call it a day. There’s nothing more we can do until we’ve spoken to Ashman. I’ll send word to Mike and Tim and I’ll see all of you tomorrow morning at eight o’clock sharp.’
‘Well, the plot isn’t so much thickening as curdling,’ said Vicky as, after saying goodbye to Rathbone, she and Sukey went down to the car park.
‘If Romeo saw something, my guess is that it was Rainbird being attacked,’ said Sukey. ‘Logic would suggest that he recognized the attacker and thought he might make something out of it.’
‘Except that we don’t know yet whether Rainbird was attacked or whether he fell into the lake by accident,’ Vicky pointed out. ‘We won’t know that until we get the result of the PM.’
‘But it does appear that there was someone else by the lake at the same time,’ said Sukey. ‘Eric claims to have seen them. He was pretty cagey and he seemed a bit uneasy when we warned him of possible danger, but he still didn’t tell us anything useful. He claims he didn’t recognize the person he saw talking to Rainbird, but he might have been lying – perhaps he too thought he might pick up some hush money.’
‘Well, he’s a fool if that’s what his game is,’ said Vicky. ‘It already looks as if we may have a second murder. And don’t forget this event has got until Tuesday morning to run. Time for at least one more death!’ she added with a sardonic chuckle as she got into her car and clipped on her seat belt.
‘Heaven forbid!’ said Sukey.
Vicky rolled down her window and waved. ‘See you in the morning! I’m looking forward to a cosy evening with Chris.’
‘Enjoy!’ said Sukey. She switched on her phone. ‘I’ll see what Harry’s doing.’
Harry answered immediately. ‘I was hoping you’d call,’ he said. ‘Perfect timing as well! Dad, Freddie and I are just having a drink before dinner. There’s plenty for four so we’ll hang on until you get here. And don’t bother about dressing up. We’ve been playing golf so when we came home we just showered and put on jeans and sweaters.’
‘Sounds lovely,’ said Sukey. ‘With you as soon as possible. Ciao!’
Harry and his father, retired army Major George Matthews, lived in an apartment called The Stables, which was one of a number of buildings comprising the former Sherman Estate which had some years ago been sold off and converted into individual dwellings. Sukey’s own apartment was in a separate building just off Whiteladies Road and next door to The Stables. She gave a quick rat-a-tat with the heavy brass knocker in the shape of a horseshoe. Harry opened the door, gave her a quick hug and a kiss and led her into the sitting room, where a log fire crackled in the hearth and easy chairs were grouped invitingly around a low table bearing drinks and snacks. She was greeted affectionately by Harry’s father and the woman he gallantly referred to as his ‘lady friend’, Lady Frederica Sinclair, known to her friends as Freddie. Affectionate greetings were exchanged, the hosts’ drinks topped up and a drink poured for Sukey.
‘It’s so nice that you can join us,’ said Freddie. ‘George and Harry have made one of their wonderful casseroles and as you know they make enough to feed a regiment.’ She raised her glass. ‘Cheers!’ Everyone did the same. ‘Harry says you’ve been working today,’ she went on. ‘Another nice juicy murder?’
‘Sukey’s working on the Dallington Manor case,’ said Major Matthews. ‘It’s no good asking her questions – all you’ll get will be something on the lines of “there’ll be an official statement before the next blue moon”. Harry usually decides to do his own investigating. He finds something interesting, tells Sukey, she follows it up while making him swear not to tell his editor until it’s officially released. That’s how it works, isn’t it, Harry?’
‘It isn’t normally quite that simple,’ said Harry. ‘But you must admit,’ he added, turning to Sukey who had raised a quizzical eyebrow, ‘that I have been known to be useful.’
‘Yes – and nearly getting us both killed into the bargain,’ she retorted.
‘Let’s not drag that up again,’ Harry protested. ‘It was only once, and several cases ago. And if you’re sitting there on tenterhooks,’ he went on, his manner becoming serious, ‘I did come across something today that I thought was interesting. It concerns a recent road accident.’ He sent a provocative glance in Sukey’s direction, but she chose to ignore it and kept her eyes focused on her glass.
‘Come now, let’s not talk shop,’ protested Major Matthews, but Freddie put up a hand.
‘What road accident was that?’ she asked. ‘Has it got something to do with the case Sukey’s working on? The one where a man’s body was found in the lake?’
‘That’s the one,’ said Harry. ‘As far as my editor is concerned, the case is being covered by one of our juniors. The police won’t know until after the PM whether it was an accident or murder – right, Sukey?’ She nodded. ‘But we know that another death has taken place since and the victim was recently at Dallington Manor. My gut instinct tells me there’s a connection and the question is: were there two accidents or two murders? Or one murder and one accident? Or some other possible computation? Watch this space.’
‘How intriguing,’ said Freddie. ‘You certainly work on some interesting cases, Sukey.’
‘Yes, and Harry’s always after advance information so he can write his story and get into print ahead of the competition,’ said Sukey.
‘It’s called a scoop,’ said Harry. ‘We usually manage to come to an arrangement, don’t we, love?’ he added. She didn’t reply, but in spite of herself she couldn’t help returning his smile.
The food, as always, was delicious, the wine perfectly chosen and the dessert, contributed by Freddie, a delicate concoction of fruit, yogurt and mixed nuts. They were just enjoying some cheese when Harry’s phone rang. He made an excuse and left the room; when he returned his face was serious.
‘Something wrong?’ said his father.
‘Nothing that can’t wait,’ he replied.
For the rest of the evening Sukey kept a covert eye on him. Although he quickly appeared to recover his normal, cheerful mood she sensed that the call had disturbed him. Her suspicions were confirmed when, at the end of the evening, he escorted her to her door as usual, and said, ‘Is it OK if I come in for a minute? Something’s happened that I think you should know about.’
‘I guessed something was up,’ she said. ‘Yes, of course, come in.’
He led the way into her kitchen but made no move to sit down. ‘First of all,’ he said, ‘it’s pretty clear there’s some doubt about the cause of the accident to Romeo’s van. Your people have been very cagey as usual, but the staff at Dallington Manor have been talking among themselves about it and have already heard about the problems you’re having deciding whether Rainbird’s death was an accident or the result of an attack. And we also know there were two people besides Rainbird down by the lake the night he died.’
‘Two people?’ said Sukey in astonishment. ‘Where did you pick this up?’
‘I have to confess I’ve been holding out on you,’ said Harry. ‘The fact is, I have a mole at Dallington Manor. One of the staff; he slipped out for a smoke that night and saw – or thought he saw – Rainbird speaking to a man. He couldn’t say who it was because he’d only been on duty since tea time, and didn’t recognize him among the sea of newcomers. All he said was that the chap was fairly tall and well-built.’
‘What’s this chap’s name?’ asked Sukey.
‘Reg Law – he’s one
of the waiters.’
‘I don’t recognize the name,’ said Sukey. ‘I don’t think either Vicky or I have interviewed him. I’ll have to check with Mike or Tim.’
‘Oh, he was interviewed all right but he must have decided not to tell your lot what he’d seen,’ said Harry. ‘The fact is, he rang my office and asked to speak to the senior crime reporter so the call was passed to me. He told me first what I’ve just told you and then went on to say he knew something else that could make a good story and offered to tell me if I’d make it worth his while.’
‘Why the hell didn’t you report this to us?’ Sukey demanded.
‘To be honest, I wasn’t convinced he’d seen anything and I told him as much,’ said Harry. ‘He insisted he had and wanted to meet me so I suggested he call in at the office. He was a bit miffed at that said he’d think about it.’
The Scent of Death--A Sukey Reyholds British police procedural Page 8