By the end of the day all the members of the team had ticked off a few names on their respective lists without any positive results. ‘Let’s hope for better luck tomorrow,’ said Vicky as they cleared their work stations and went home.
At the press briefing the following morning DCI Leach made a statement to the effect that the death of Lance Rainbird was now being treated as murder and a new line of enquiry was being pursued. He appealed to anyone who had a personal acquaintance with Rainbird or knew anything about his private life to come forward. Despite requests from many of the journalists present he refused to answer any questions.
NINETEEN
At five o’clock on Friday, Rathbone summoned his team for a debriefing.
‘You first, Vicky,’ he said. ‘Did you and Sukey learn anything useful from any of Freeman’s mob?’
‘Nothing specific, Guv,’ said Vicky, ‘but so far we’ve only managed to make a dozen calls each so there are still a few people to track down. Some of them were out so we’ll try them again; in the meantime the consensus seems to be that Rainbird was pleasant and polite to everyone but not much of a conversationalist and tended to shy away if anyone asked him anything like a personal question. As we already know, he was always ready to contribute to a discussion about music – it was in that sort of situation that the spats with Bowen arose – and he was quite friendly with the Pearsons, but not really intimate with them or anyone else.
‘Not a lot of help, but keep at it,’ said Rathbone. ‘Have you anything to add to that, Sukey?’
‘I’m afraid not, Guv.’
‘How about you, Mike? Have you learned anything interesting from any of the staff?’
‘Well, sir, it soon became evident that the female staff often exchange titbits about things they’ve noticed about the guests and there seems to have been quite a lot of gossip about one or two members of Mr Freeman’s group. One member of the housekeeping staff noticed a condom that didn’t get flushed away in the toilet of a room occupied by a single gentleman and it so happened that the guest in the room next door was a single lady who one of the waitresses had noticed seemed to be on very friendly terms with the gentleman in question.’
‘I don’t suppose the gentleman in question was Lance Rainbird?’
‘No such luck, I’m afraid, Guv.’
‘Why doesn’t that surprise me? Did you have any luck with Gunn, Penny?’
‘As it happens, Guv, he did say something that might be significant.’ Penny consulted her notes. ‘I began by reminding him of something he said to Mr Chapman when he rushed in to tell him he’d found Reg’s body, something suggesting that he knew his friend was worried because he’d said he “might have done something stupid”. DS Armstrong and Sukey saw Gunn the next day and asked him to be a bit more specific; it seemed that it arose out of a phone call he’d had from Law on Sunday afternoon. He said, “I can’t remember the exact words but the gist of it was that he should have gone to the police instead of trying to be clever” and then he said “Sorry, I’ve got to go” and ended the call; Gunn thought it was probably because the guests had started to come back for their tea.’
‘Thank you, that’s refreshed all our memories,’ said Rathbone. ‘I take it you’ve got something to add to that?’
‘Yes, Guv. After I’d reminded him of all that he said, “That sounds about right; as you can imagine, I was still in a hell of a state. It had all been such a terrible shock. I’d calmed down a little but I was still really distressed.” He then went on to say, “Ever since it happened I’ve been going over and over in my head, trying to think of something … anything … that might give a clue.” At that point he got a bit weepy so I gave him a moment to pull himself together.’
‘All right, get on with it,’ Rathbone interrupted, as Penny broke off to scroll hastily through several pages of the reports.
‘Sorry, Guv, just finding the right spot,’ said Penny. ‘Ah, here we are!’ She appeared nervous – probably, Sukey thought, because she found Rathbone’s manner intimidating. She cleared her throat and said, ‘Law had remembered something else; he said “I’ve been thinking perhaps I should tell the police about Reg’s call so I’m glad to have this chance.” He said he’d remembered asking Law what he meant about trying to be clever instead of going to the police; again, he couldn’t recall the exact words but it was something like “you’ll never believe who I heard having a …” and then he said “got to go, tell you later” and ended the call. I asked Gunn if Reg had sounded normal when he made the call and he said, “I had the impression that he was really anxious to tell me something, but for some reason had to break off – probably because someone else was trying to attract his attention. He was on duty at the time”.’
‘And that was it?’
‘Yes, Guv. He kept repeating how much he missed his friend and would do anything to help nail his killer, but he really couldn’t think of anything else. I asked him if Law had said anything on a previous occasion to suggest he’d noticed anyone saying or doing anything out of the ordinary, but he was quite certain that he hadn’t.’
‘Well, it’s not much to go on, but we have to look into it,’ said Rathbone. He flipped through the pages of the open file on his desk. ‘Law made that call to Gunn at three fifteen on Sunday afternoon. Let’s assume for the moment, first that whatever he was talking about had a direct bearing on Rainbird’s murder, and second that the killer heard him making that call and decided he had to be silenced. Any comments?’
‘Sunday afternoon – that would be the time when the waiters were setting up the afternoon teas,’ said Vicky. ‘If your assumption is right, Guv, that would narrow down the number of people who might have overheard the call. The music lovers would have been in the Orchard Room.’
‘Good point, Vicky. Make a note to ask everyone on your list from now on if they happened to have noticed any absentees from the Orchard Room at the crucial time, and double check with any of the others you’ve been in contact with, including Freeman. Mike and Tim, you’ve been talking to the staff; go over your list and narrow it down to those who were on duty when Law made that call.’
‘Right, Guv.’
‘Chapman will know, or one of the office staff,’ said Rathbone. ‘Next question: has anyone any idea what Law meant by “doing something stupid” and “trying to be clever”?’
‘Whatever it was, he said he should have gone to the police, so he obviously thought it had some bearing on at least one of the deaths,’ said Tim.
Sukey raised a hand. ‘I think I can answer that one, Guv.’
‘Right. Let’s have it.’
‘I was having dinner with Major Matthews on Sunday evening, his son Harry was there and he received a call on his mobile during the evening. He didn’t say what the call was about, but I could see that it disturbed him. He told me later that it was from Keith Gunn, telling him that Reg Law had been murdered.’
‘How the hell did Matthews know Gunn?’ demanded Rathbone. ‘Has he been poking his nose into our case again?’
‘He admitted to me that he’s been taking a particular interest in the Dallington Manor case, Guv. As you all know, he’s the senior crime correspondent on the Echo and like all reporters he’s always on the lookout for a scoop. Anyway, after he got the call from Gunn he told me that Law had called the Echo on Saturday – the day before Rainbird’s body was found – asking to speak to a crime reporter. The call was passed to Harry; Law said he’d seen a man he didn’t recognize talking to someone he thought might be Rainbird the evening Rainbird’s body was found. Harry naturally wanted to hear more; after questioning Law he wasn’t convinced he’d actually seen anyone, but he advised him to tell the police. Then Law tried another tack; he said he knew something that would make a nice titbit for the Echo. Again, he wouldn’t give any details and this time he wanted a promise of payment in advance. Harry said it didn’t work like that; he’d have to be satisfied there was something in this “titbit” and if so to decide what
it was worth. Law said he’d think about it; he never called again and Harry decided it was probably a try-on and thought no more about it.’
‘Unfortunately for him, he didn’t take Matthews’ advice,’ Rathbone commented. ‘Law’s call to Matthews was made the day before he was murdered,’ he went on thoughtfully. ‘Well, if Law really did see anything significant before calling Matthews on Saturday he obviously didn’t mention it to Gunn at the time. I strongly suspect that he’d seen or heard something more just before making the call to Gunn and someone overheard what he said. I want to know who that person is.
‘I suppose it’s possible more than one person heard the call or possibly even noticed whatever Law was so exercised about without realizing its significance or making the connection.’
‘That could mean someone else could be in danger, Guv,’ said Sukey. ‘Both Bowen and Gunn and one or two other people talked about a serial killer. Vicky and I did our best to reassure them.’
‘Serial killers do it for the pleasure of killing,’ said Tim. ‘It seems to me that our man is just trying to cover his tracks.’
‘Which he’s done quite successfully so far,’ said Rathbone. ‘Is everyone clear about what they have to do? Right, now I’ll tell you what I’ve found out about our friend Justin Freeman. Apart from the phoney degrees, there are some other inaccuracies on his prospectus. He claims to have been a lecturer at Branwell College in Taunton until his retirement, after which he set up his business running these music events. I made an appointment with the Principal, a Doctor Lloyd, and he confirmed that Freeman had lectured there for some years but retired early on the grounds of ill health. I expressed surprise, saying he appeared pretty fit, and after a bit of hesitation Lloyd admitted that was a cover-up; he’d been caught having an affair with one of his students. The girl wasn’t under age and had been quite willing, so there was no question of police involvement, but Doctor Lloyd feared damage to the college’s reputation so Freeman had agreed to the early retirement story.’
‘Freeman told Stan and Trixie Day a bit about himself,’ said Vicky. ‘He said he was a widower with one son who lives in South Africa with his wife and children, and he visits them for a few weeks every winter. It looks as if being on his own with his family so far away made him look around for some female company and he found it in the wrong place.’
‘It happens,’ Tim commented. ‘Perhaps the girl took the initiative; teenagers are sometimes attracted to older men.’
‘Oh, I haven’t come to the end of the tale yet,’ said Rathbone with a hint of relish. ‘He wasn’t a widower, his wife divorced him. The fling with the student wasn’t the first of his shenanigans but she’d stuck it out for the sake of their son, because up to then he’d been more discreet about his affairs. Anyway, when the dust had settled after the divorce the ex-wife went off to join the son, who by this time was married with a couple of kids and living in South Africa. At least that part of the story is true; he does visit the grandchildren for a couple of weeks in the winter.’
‘And when did he get the idea for starting his music conventions?’ asked Mike.
‘He’d probably been planning it for some time as something to do when he retired, but it all went pear-shaped. After the divorce he was financially pretty stretched and his only asset was the house, which he’d been allowed to keep as part of the settlement. Everything else had either gone to his wife or been swallowed up in expenses. To raise some capital he put the house on the market and then his fairy godmother came to his rescue in the shape of the purchaser. She’s a wealthy lady who took a shine to him; the feeling was mutual and they’re now an item. She’s having the house made over and the plan is for them to move in together as soon as it’s ready for them.’
‘Sounds a nice cosy arrangement,’ commented Mike. ‘I wonder if the fairy godmother keeps him on a tight rein or whether he still has the occasional fling.’
‘If he does, it can’t be with anyone in the Dallington Manor party or it would have been commented on,’ said Penny.
‘Perhaps he was the single gentleman who was careless with the condom,’ Tim suggested. ‘We’d better check the room numbers.’
‘Do you think Rainbird might have dredged all this up from somewhere, Guv?’ asked Mike. ‘The threat to publicize that bit of scandal, plus the phoney degrees, would have put him in an even stronger position to demand hush money.’
‘Exactly,’ said Rathbone. ‘As you may have noticed, I still have my doubts about Freeman’s story that all Rainbird wanted to talk to him about was a reduction in his tax liability. As far as I’m concerned he’s back in the frame.’
‘Why not pull him in for further questioning, Guv?’ said Mike. ‘He is still on police bail.’
‘Not without at least one hard bit of evidence,’ said Rathbone. ‘If we pull him in purely on the basis of his having told a few porkies to the Days we’ll have Nugent threatening to bring a case against us for harassment.’ He closed his file, put it into a drawer in his desk, stood up and reached for his jacket. ‘Right, that’s all for today. Usual time tomorrow everyone – except you, Sukey, of course. It would be great if by some miracle you could find something in Rainbird’s flat, or learn anything from the neighbours, anything that would help us find his – and young Law’s – killer.’
‘I’ll do my best, Guv,’ said Sukey.
It was a little after half past nine when Sukey’s train reached Waterloo. Harry was waiting for her and in a short time they were in the car and heading out of central London. ‘I hope you like Greenings,’ he said. ‘It’s a small privately owned hotel and the rooms are really comfortable. Mrs Greening is a splendid cook and she’s happy to do evening meals to order.’
‘And a full English breakfast?’ asked Sukey.
‘Of course.’
‘I was afraid of that,’ she sighed. ‘I love it, but it’s so bad for the figure.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with your figure,’ he assured her. He patted her thigh and she felt her flesh tingle in response. ‘Now, the court isn’t sitting tomorrow so I thought the two of us could try our luck with some house-to-house enquiries. Another advantage of Greenings is that it’s within easy reach of the house where Lance Rainbird used to live.’
‘We can do better than that,’ said Sukey. ‘I’ve got the key to his flat.’
‘No kidding? How did you manage that?’
‘I reminded DI Rathbone that it was my weekend off, told him I’d been invited to spend it with a friend in London and offered to give up a little of my valuable time doing a bit of house to house. He referred the suggestion to DCI Leach who gave it his blessing.’
‘Great. I take it you didn’t mention our arrangement?’ They had stopped at a traffic light and he turned to look at her. ‘Something tells me you have; am I right?’
‘Not exactly, but it does make a difference because Rathbone knows about the call you had from Gunn.’
The traffic has started moving again. ‘Go on,’ said Harry.
‘It emerged during our enquiries that Reg Law had told Keith Gunn about how he’d called you on Saturday with that story about having seen someone talking to Rainbird and then trying to sell you a titbit about something else, but nothing came of it. Rathbone wanted to know why Gunn had called you immediately after finding Law’s body so I had to tell him.’
‘Are you saying I can’t go with you to Rainbird’s flat, then?’
‘No, but I’ve arranged to meet an officer from the local police at Rainbird’s address. I have to show my ID and get the OK to go in, and I don’t want you around while that’s going on. I suggest you drop me off near the house and then go and wait somewhere nearby but out of sight until I’ve done the necessary with whoever comes round to check me out. I’ll call you on my mobile as soon as the coast is clear. How does that sound?’
‘It sounds fine to me,’ said Harry. ‘Here we are at Greenings hotel.’ He took her suitcase out of the boot and locked the car. ‘Are you hungry, by
the way? It’s gone ten but I dare say Mrs Greening could rustle up a sandwich.’
‘I’m fine, thanks. I had a burger and a coffee on the train.’
‘Good.’ He took her hand and squeezed it. ‘I promise you’ll find our bed very comfortable,’ he whispered as he pushed the front door open.
‘I’m sure I shall,’ she whispered back.
TWENTY
Sukey awoke the following morning in a blissful state of relaxation after a wonderful night. She glanced at her travelling clock; it was a little after eight. Sunlight was filtering through the rose-printed curtains, promising a fine morning. She gave Harry, still fast asleep at her side, a gentle shake. After a moment he stirred, rolled over, put an arm round her and gently kissed her cheek.
‘Sleep well, love?’ he whispered.
‘Like a baby. And you?’
‘Likewise. Isn’t it great being in a full-size double bed? Not that I’m complaining about yours, it isn’t that small but …’
She snuggled against him. ‘I know what you mean.’
‘As a matter of fact, I’ve been thinking just lately …’ he began.
‘What?’ she asked after he left the sentence unfinished.
‘Never mind; perhaps we can talk about it some other time. We’ve got plans to make for today and I’m hungry. Who’s first in the bathroom?’
‘That was a super breakfast; thank you so much,’ she said as Mrs Greening, a pretty brunette in her late thirties, whisked away her empty plate.
‘I’m glad you enjoyed it. Would you like some more toast?’
‘No thank you, but I’d love some more coffee. I don’t think I’ll want to eat another thing until dinner,’ she said to Harry when Mrs Greening had refilled their cups and moved on to the next table.
‘I’m hoping you’ll find room for some lunch,’ he replied, stirring milk into his coffee, ‘because I’ve got a special treat lined up for you.’
The Scent of Death--A Sukey Reyholds British police procedural Page 17