‘You’ve worked here for some time then?’ said Vicky.
‘Oh yes – for several years in fact. It’s the only job I’ve been able to get so far but my real ambition is to become a journalist. I can’t afford to go to college – my father’s dead and my mother only has a small pension – but I’ve been told there are correspondence courses.’ He looked enquiringly from one to the other. ‘What do you want to talk to me about?’
‘It so happens we’ve already heard about your ambition,’ said Sukey. ‘A friend of mine is a journalist and one of the things I’ve learned about him is that he’s an incorrigible people watcher. Does this apply to you?’
He gave a slightly self-conscious smile. ‘Well, yes, you could say that,’ he admitted. ‘As a matter of fact, I’m particularly interested in being a crime reporter; I’m aware that Mr Rainbird’s death still isn’t being treated as murder,’ he hurried on, ‘but once Reg Law was killed it’s pretty obvious that you – the police – are thinking on those lines.’
‘As you say, we’re still not sure how Mr Rainbird met his death,’ said Vicky, ‘but we believe someone here has noticed more than they’ve told us.’
‘As you know, I’ve already been interviewed by one of your colleagues.’ His manner became defensive as he added, ‘I assure you I answered his questions fully and frankly.’
‘We’re not suggesting for a moment that you’re deliberately withholding anything,’ Sukey assured him. ‘We’re just wondering if you might have noticed or possibly heard something that struck you as, let’s say, interesting or even unusual … about any of the people in Mr Freeman’s group.’
‘Let me think now.’ Carter closed his eyes for a moment, and then opened them again. ‘Well of course there are the two gentlemen who seem to like showing off how much they know about music and are always arguing with each other. Everyone seemed to agree that one of them – the one who died that is – knew a lot more than the other. He certainly commanded more respect anyway and I’ve noticed he had a few admirers among the ladies. One or two in particular seem to hang on his every word. Now I come to think of it, he did have a very attractive voice – a romantic novelist might describe it as “mellifluous”. And there’s the lady in the wheelchair – or rather her companion; I think she was rather smitten as well.’
‘That’s interesting,’ said Sukey. She recalled Hugh Pearson’s remarks about his own wife and wondered how many other husbands shared his views. ‘Do you happen to know the names of any of these ladies?’
‘I’m afraid not,’ he apologized. ‘Except the companion – I know she’s called Millie because her employer often summons her in a very audible voice. Most of the others chat very informally and if they use names at all it’s only their first names or even nicknames.’
‘By the way,’ said Vicky, ‘were you on duty on Friday evening – the night Mr Rainbird died?’
He shook his head. ‘No, my shift finished at five o’clock. I’ve been on the early shift for the past couple of weeks.’
‘Well, thank you, you’ve been very helpful,’ said Sukey. ‘And good luck with your journalistic career.’
‘I don’t see that he’s been much help,’ Vicky remarked as Carter went back to the kitchen.
Sukey shrugged. ‘Well, it was worth a try.’
‘Sir should be along any minute so we’d better get back to reception,’ said Vicky.
Rathbone was there waiting for them. ‘The punters will be getting ready to leave soon,’ he told them. ‘They’ll be coming to the desk to settle their bar accounts before setting off home. Freeman will be here to speed them on their merry way –’ at this point he lowered his voice although there was no one within earshot – ‘and I shall quietly detain him for a minute or two after they’ve gone and request a word with him down at the station. He’ll no doubt put on a show of reluctance – want to know why we can’t have our word here and so on – but he’ll have to agree in the end. He’s got his own car here of course so I’ve brought double-oh-seven to ride shotgun with him and we’ll all drive in convoy back to HQ.’
‘I’ve just learned something that may help to throw light on Reg Law’s death, Guv,’ said Sukey.
‘What’s that?’
She briefly outlined the approach Reg Law had made to Harry Matthews. ‘He didn’t mention it at the time because he didn’t take Law’s claim seriously at first. When he heard about his death, he told me straight away.’
Rathbone thought for a moment. ‘Obviously, the “something stupid” was to try and make a bit on the side instead of coming straight to us. Unfortunately for him, Freeman overheard that call. Excellent. More grist to the Freeman mill.’
‘Do you want us to wait here with you, Guv?’ asked Vicky.
‘No, you go back to your own cars and wait. Any joy from that waiter, by the way?’
‘Not really, Guv.’
He shrugged. ‘As I thought. All right, see you outside.’
‘He’s like a wolf waiting to sink his fangs into his prey,’ commented Vicky. ‘You can’t blame him, I suppose – it’s pretty satisfying to be ninety per cent sure you’ve got your man.’
Seated in their respective cars, which were parked some distance away from Freeman’s, Sukey and Vicky watched as the last of the party drove away. Having seen the last one off, Freeman picked up his own luggage and put it in the boot of his car. He had evidently not noticed PC James Bond sitting in the front passenger seat, but as he reached for the handle of the driver’s door, Rathbone quietly approached him from behind and put a hand on his arm. He swung round in evident surprise, listened as Rathbone spoke to him and then shook his head and lifted both hands in what looked like a gesture of refusal before making another attempt to open the door. Rathbone gripped his wrist and he made an unsuccessful effort to shake himself free. There were two or three minutes of altercation before Freeman ceased arguing, got into the car and switched on the ignition. At a signal from Rathbone and before Freeman moved forward, first Vicky and then Sukey pulled out and headed for the exit. Freeman followed and with Rathbone bringing up the rear the party travelled in convoy to the police headquarters.
Once in the interview room and before Rathbone had a chance to say a word, Freeman said, ‘I can’t for the life of me understand why this couldn’t have been sorted out before we left the hotel. You’re supposed to be out hunting for a killer, not wasting my time with questions you could have asked earlier. I need to get home – I’ve got things to see to – and what the hell are you switching that thing on for?’ he went on as Rathbone, ignoring the outburst, went through the formalities of starting the recording and settling down opposite Freeman with Vicky and Sukey on either side of him.
‘Mr Freeman,’ Rathbone began, ‘you are here because we believe you can help us in our enquiries into the death of Lance Rainbird and the subsequent deaths of John Grayson and Reginald Law. If you wish to call your solicitor you are free to do so – or we can arrange for you to be advised by the duty solicitor.’
‘Why the hell should I need a solicitor?’ demanded Freeman, ‘and how can I help you with your enquiries when I’ve already told you all I know?’
‘Mr Freeman,’ said Rathbone, ‘you are on record –’ here the detective opened a file that lay on the table in front of him – ‘as saying that the last time you saw Mr Rainbird alive was when he left the dining room on Friday evening at around eight o’clock saying that he was going out for some fresh air.’
‘That’s correct,’ said Freeman. ‘But why—?’
‘You further stated,’ Rathbone continued, ‘that you went up to the Orchard Room some ten or fifteen minutes before the evening programme was due to start, on the pretext of checking your equipment.’
‘It wasn’t a pretext, it’s something I do as a matter of routine,’ said Freeman. ‘Anyone will tell you.’
‘Ah yes, routine. Of course. So naturally no one doubted for a moment that your reason for leaving the dining room before everyone els
e on this occasion was the usual one.’
‘Which it was!’ As if to drive the point home, Freeman slapped the table with an open palm. Sukey noticed that he had long, powerful looking fingers and she had a fleeting vision of them clamped round Law’s throat.
‘Mr Freeman,’ said Rathbone, ‘we have taken a statement from a witness who claims to have seen you speaking to Mr Rainbird close to the lake, shortly after he left to go outside.’
Freeman appeared startled and hesitated for a moment before saying hurriedly, ‘I can’t think what witness you have in mind, but I can only repeat that I went straight up to the Orchard Room after drinking my after dinner coffee, so whoever it was obviously mistook me for someone else. Surely you aren’t suggesting that I was the one who attacked Lance Rainbird? If that’s what this is about, you’re barking up the wrong tree. All right, he could be a pain in the backside at times but that’s hardly a motive for murder unless you’re looking for some kind of psychopath, which I assure you I’m not. And if that’s all you have in the way of evidence against me …’ He half rose in his chair, but Rathbone raised a hand.
‘As to motive,’ he said, ‘I was coming to that. You say Rainbird could be “a pain in the backside at times” – could that be on account of his extensive knowledge of music?’
‘Not so much his knowledge – as I’ve already told you, I’m well aware of that and I respect it – so much as his way of letting us all know about it. Eric Bowen’s just the same; neither of them is a qualified musician, not—’
‘Not with a string of degrees like you, for example?’
‘Well, yes.’
‘So it will surprise you to learn that Lance Rainbird held a degree in music from the Open University?’
Freeman’s jaw dropped. ‘I had no idea. He was obviously a real lover of music with a very wide knowledge, but … what a strange chap … to keep it a secret. You’d have thought …’
‘He’d want to boast about it, to let everyone know.’ Freeman nodded. ‘It was a surprise to us,’ Rathbone continued, ‘but we have reason to believe that this was typical behaviour on his part. From the string of qualifications you claim here –’ at this point Rathbone picked up a copy of Freeman’s prospectus – ‘you obviously have no such inhibitions.’
‘That’s not boasting, it’s all about PR. People who are being asked to spend their time and part with their money need some sort of guarantee that they’re going to get value for it.’
‘Ah yes, and this impressive string of letters is their assurance that you are a suitably qualified person to help them to a greater understanding of music and get more enjoyment out of it?’
‘Of course.’
‘Maybe they wouldn’t be so impressed if they knew that you were never actually awarded those degrees.’
The effect on Freeman was striking. It almost seemed to Sukey as if he had become physically smaller. He put a hand to his mouth and his eyes widened in mingled astonishment and dismay. ‘How in the world did you find out?’ he asked.
‘It wasn’t difficult,’ said Rathbone drily. ‘We have our methods.’
Freeman made a little gesture of despair. ‘I needed something more than my existing CV to get this business off the ground. I did a lot of searching on the Internet and I found these American universities offering distance learning courses. I thought I could do that while I was approaching retirement and it would be something extra to put on my prospectus.’
‘As it happened you didn’t qualify for any of the courses, but you claimed the qualifications anyway, thinking no one would ever find out.’
‘I knew it was a risk but I took a chance on no one taking the trouble to check.’
‘But Rainbird did, and he was trying to blackmail you, wasn’t he?’
Freeman sat bolt upright and his jaw dropped. ‘What in the world gave you that idea?’
To Sukey, the man’s look of bewilderment appeared genuine, but evidently Rathbone was not impressed. He leaned forward and said, ‘I put it to you that Lance Rainbird told you he had discovered that you were not entitled to the qualifications you claim on your prospectus and wanted money to keep quiet. You weren’t prepared to submit to blackmail so you lured him into the garden at a time when no one else would be around and—’
‘No!’ Freeman leapt to his feet and the uniformed officer standing behind him moved forward and firmly pressed him back on to his chair. ‘This is crazy … you’ve got it all wrong,’ he continued. ‘It wasn’t like that – he just …’ As if realizing that he had been on the point of giving himself away, he broke off and pressed his lips firmly together.
‘All right, it wasn’t like that,’ Rathbone continued. He waited for a moment before saying quietly, ‘So tell us how it was, then.’
‘I’m not saying another word without my solicitor’s advice.’
‘That’s your right, sir. Would you like us to arrange for a duty solicitor to advise you, or …?’
‘I’ll call my own, if you don’t mind.’
After Freeman made his call he said, ‘My solicitor has an appointment with a client in an hour’s time. He will be here at three o’clock.’
‘Very well. If you would like to have some lunch this officer will arrange for your choice of food from the canteen to be brought here while you await your solicitor’s arrival.’
Freeman’s solicitor, whom he introduced as Dennis Nugent, was about the same build as his client, but he had a leaner, paler face and his steady, direct gaze as he took his place beside his client reminded Sukey of DCI Leach. Once the formalities were over he said briskly, ‘Inspector Rathbone, I am sure we can clear this matter up very quickly. My client admits that he has made certain misleading claims on his prospectus – claims that he assures me will not appear on the new edition which will be printed shortly. He does, however, categorically deny that Mr Rainbird informed him that he knew of the deception or asked for money – or made any other demands – as a price for his silence.’
‘To make sure you are fully in the picture, Mr Nugent,’ said Rathbone, ‘I’ll ask Detective Sergeant Armstrong to inform you of the relevant question and your client’s answer.’
Reading from her notes, Vicky began, ‘DI Rathbone said to Mr Freeman, “You lured him into the garden at a time when no one else would be around”, at which point the witness jumped to his feet and said, “You’ve got it all wrong … it wasn’t like that, he just” – and then he said he would say no more without your advice.’
‘Thank you,’ said Rathbone. ‘So perhaps,’ he went on speaking directly to Freeman, ‘now you have your solicitor’s advice you are prepared to explain exactly how it was that you lied to us about being in the grounds talking to Rainbird when you were supposed to be checking your equipment.’
‘All right, I did arrange to meet him,’ said Freeman, ‘but I was a few minutes late because I got chatting to some people who were having coffee so I was a bit pushed for time and we only had a few minutes together. We agreed we’d arrange to meet again to discuss details and I went back indoors. I swear he was alive when I left him.’
‘So what was the purpose of your meeting?’
‘He offered to give me some advice. He said it was confidential and he didn’t want to risk our conversation being overheard.’
‘What was the nature of his advice?’
‘I told you, it was confidential.’
‘Are you saying you were prepared to go to this clandestine meeting without an inkling of what it was about?’
Freeman fidgeted in his chair. ‘I think I’d like to have another word with my solicitor in private.’
Rathbone stood up and spoke into the microphone. ‘Very well. Interview suspended at three thirty.’ To Freeman he said, ‘You may have ten minutes.’
When they reassembled Rathbone said, ‘Right, sir, you arranged to meet Mr Rainbird. Exactly where was the meeting to take place?’
‘In a place we both knew. Whichever of us got there first would be stan
ding near the cypress tree close to the edge of the lake.’
‘Which of you suggested that particular place?’
‘I did.’
‘Any particular reason?’
‘It was just a convenient landmark, that’s all.’
‘Of course, you both knew the grounds reasonably well, having been there on at least one previous occasion. But there hasn’t always been a heap of large chunks of cut timber, has there?’
‘Not that I remember. What difference does it make?’
‘The difference is that in the hands of a strong man – such as yourself, for example – a heavy piece of timber could easily fell a slighter man, who could then be pushed into the water and left to drown.’
‘That’s an outrageous suggestion!’ Freeman shouted.
‘Please, Inspector,’ Nugent intervened, ‘it is obvious that whatever your witness happened to observe he or she did not see my client attack Mr Rainbird or you would have produced them. I must insist that you come to the point without any more beating about the bush.’
‘Very well, I would like your client to explain the nature of this advice.’
‘He has assured me that it has no bearing whatsoever on the death of Mr Rainbird.’
‘I am not prepared to accept his assurance,’ said Rathbone, ‘and I would remind him that since Mr Rainbird’s death one person has been murdered and another has died under circumstances which are not yet fully explained. We do, however, believe that these deaths are connected and that your client is in possession of information which would be of help to us in our enquiries.’ He turned to Freeman, ‘I must therefore insist that you reveal this advice, otherwise I shall have no alternative but to detain you for further questioning.’
Freeman gave a resigned sigh. ‘All right then, I’ll tell you.’
FOURTEEN
‘Right,’ said Rathbone, ‘let’s have the full story – and make it the truth this time.’
The Scent of Death--A Sukey Reyholds British police procedural Page 12