“Did you hear that?”
“I didn’t hear anything, Nicky.”
“She criticised my buns!”
“I’m sure she didn’t.”
But a glance at Rhonda’s face said that whatever she’d said it hadn’t been nice. As Nicky pointed two fingers at her eyes and then at Rhonda’s, in a universal gesture that said I’m watching you, Craig called the group to order, blissfully unaware that war had just broken out.
He noticed that someone was missing.
“Has anyone seen Jake this morning?”
Liam answered through a mouthful of cake. “He called me on the way in. The P.P.S. wanted to see him. From experience that means we won’t see him all day.”
Craig shrugged and turned to Ash.
“Has Andy recognised anyone on the tapes?”
“Not so far, chief, but there’s twenty hours of footage all told.”
“OK.” He turned to find Davy, who had a cake in his mouth and was balancing a cup of coffee on his knee.
“Anything on Guthrie’s car yet?”
“Phff.”
“I take it that means yes?”
The analyst gulped down his cake and nodded. “You were right. Joe Rice found it in the carpark across from the Odyssey. I’m w…waiting for the details on the time that it was parked.”
Craig nodded. “Good. My guess is after seven p.m. How about the CCTV from outside the Odyssey? Terry Mallon met our man there so I want anything you can find, then give it to Andy to view.”
Davy’s eyebrows rose quizzically.
“Ash will explain.” With that Craig grabbed the white board and dragged it across to his chair, raising his voice. “OK, sit down everyone. We have a lot to get through.”
Liam watched as Andy sat forward in his chair and Rhonda moved her own so that her back was to him. Whatever had happened the night before the participants obviously had conflicting views.
“OK. Liam and I took a trip to the Titanic Quarter last night. Liam, would you cover that, please.”
As he did Craig got a fresh drink but gave the cakes a pass, although the sugar might come in handy later; it was going to be a long day. As he watched, Liam rose and walked to the front of the room. Craig smiled, knowing it was less about being authoritative and more because he wanted to watch Andy and Rhonda face on.
“Right. We went to Jamison’s offices and retraced the likely journey Dom Guthrie took on Friday night. The place he died only made sense if he’d walked from Jamison’s towards the Odyssey, and that only made sense if he’d parked the Golf a distance away -”
Craig cut in. “Which we now know he had. It’s been found in the carpark opposite the Odyssey. Davy’s chasing that up.”
Liam nodded. “OK. Anyhow. Guthrie was alive when he left Jamison’s office and he walked from there towards the carpark, but, as we know, he didn’t make it. His progress was cut short by a large piece of breezeblock and we now know where it came from. Between Jamison’s office and the murder scene there’s a construction site with breezeblocks lying around-”
Craig interrupted again. “Its gates were locked when we visited but we don’t know if that’s new since the murder, so, Davy, could you check that out?”
Liam re-started. “OK, so the killer nicked a piece of breezeblock and used it to kill Guthrie. A second development is that Docs Winter and Marsham found a grey hair wedged in a block the C.S.I.’s found; it’s the one that killed Guthrie.”
Annette asked a question. “Jamison’s hair?”
Craig turned to face her. “No confirmation yet, but I’m sure it will be.”
She looked confused. “So Jamison killed Guthrie?”
Craig shook his head. “No. He’s inches too short to have made the injuries.”
“So someone wants us to think that he did.”
“That’s what we believe.”
There was a loud cough and they turned to see Liam with his arms folded. “When you two have quite finished.”
Annette laughed. “You should have been a teacher.”
“I’d have killed them all.”
He tapped the board, where he’d written the words ‘FRAMED’ and ‘FOLLOWED’ in capitals. “OK, so we think someone was lying in wait for Guthrie as he left Jamison’s office and followed him. The crime was committed in a location and with a weapon that puts Jamison firmly in the frame, someone pretending to be Jamison phoned the police and we already know that Jamison’s phone was hacked to show that it was him who made the call.” He stopped suddenly and turned to Craig. “Here, we didn’t actually ask Jamison whether or not he made the call, boss.”
“It’s redundant.” He saw Annette’s lips pursing and relented. “Oh, OK, remind me to ask it next time, Liam, just to hear him say no. And can you write ‘why?’ on the board please; as in why would someone want to frame Richard Jamison. We’ll come back to that in a minute. Also, has anyone found out what happened to the first Mrs Jamison yet?”
Davy nodded. “She’s remarried and living in Spain.”
“As long as he didn’t kill her I don’t care where she is. OK, can we note that we still haven’t sorted out why Stranmillis called the C.S.I.s at the same time as us.”
Liam nodded. “Aye, we have. Apparently it was a newbie on the desk and that’s the way they did it where he trained.”
“Well it’s wrong.”
Liam shrugged, glancing at Rhonda as he did. She was stony faced. Andy must really have done something to piss her off.
“OK, so what was Dominic Guthrie doing at Jamison’s again that evening, after being there at lunchtime that day? It was something secretive by the looks of it. Davy, anything on that yet?”
Davy nodded. “Here’s w…what I’ve got so far. Guthrie had personal life insurance of three million.”
Liam gave a loud whistle but the analyst merely shrugged.
“It’s not that much considering he earned five million a year.”
Craig’s jaw dropped. “What? He earned that much and he was willing to commit fraud for more?”
Davy shook his head. “We don’t know that yet, chief. All we know is that Guthrie w…was checking out currency swops a few hours before he met Jamison. Until we access all their bank accounts we can only s…speculate they were up to no good.” He waited for another comment. When it didn’t come he continued. “I can tell you that Cecilia Guthrie hadn’t increased her husband’s life insurance for eight years, so I don’t think she was planning on bumping him off.”
Annette nodded. “That fits with what we saw, sir. She seemed genuinely distraught.”
Just then the squad-room doors opened and Reggie wandered in. Liam couldn’t resist a jibe.
“Nice of you to join us for lunch.”
Reggie ignored him and pulled up a chair beside Craig, handing him a slip of paper. It was Dominic Guthrie’s parking ticket.
“Joe called so I went to the carpark on my way. Guthrie left the ticket in the car, against the usual advice.”
Liam was curious. “What’s the time stamp?”
Reggie looked at Craig. “Should I tell him?”
“Only if he apologises for his sarcastic remark.”
Liam rolled his eyes. “So sorry, Reginald. You work harder than all of us.”
Craig laughed. “Now you’re getting carried away. OK, the time stamp says Guthrie entered the carpark at six-forty on Friday evening, which means he would have been with Jamison for sevenish. From Fitzhenry’s sighting and time of death that means he was with Jamison for just under two hours. Long meeting.” He turned back to Reggie. “Get Jack Harris to ask Jamison what time Guthrie left him on Friday evening. Use my office.”
Reggie didn’t move. “Will Jamison tell us?”
“There’s no logical reason why not; it won’t reveal anything about the meeting’s agenda. If he won’t answer we’ll take it up with him in an hour.”
He waved Liam on.
“OK, so Cecilia Guthrie didn’t bump off her husband a
nd we think Jamison was framed. What does that leave us with?”
Davy raised a finger. “Guthrie’s business is in trouble. A s…string of unpaid accounts by clients has been causing cash flow problems for the company. It raised the life insurance on Guthrie to fifty million just last month.”
Liam whistled. “That must put them in the frame.”
Craig shook his head. “I’m not convinced. If I’m right Dominic Guthrie was the company. Davy?”
Davy nodded. “He’s the sole partner and Chairman of the Board. He has a few s…small shareholders but no-one who would profit by the fifty million but him and he would be too dead to enjoy it.”
Liam wasn’t convinced. “Except that his wife would inherit a solvent firm and whatever spare change there was from fifty mill. That’s one very rich widow. Correct?”
Davy nodded grudgingly. “Correct. The firm’s debts stand at fifteen million, which w…would still leave her with thirty-five, plus the three from Guthrie’s personal life insurance. But-”
Craig nodded. “But as Guthrie increased the premium and we know he didn’t murder himself and she couldn’t have physically done it, that still leaves us with our unknown killer.”
It was Annette’s turn to be sceptical. “Cecilia Guthrie could have hired our unknown killer.”
Liam gawped at her. “Here, I thought you said she was the grieving widow?”
“She is, but-”
Craig raised a hand, halting the debate. “OK, she could have hired someone, but it’s unlikely. What sort of professional killer uses a breezeblock? And why would Cecilia Guthrie want to put Richard Jamison in the frame?” He turned to the analysts. “I’m not convinced. But find me a reason why Cecilia Guthrie might hate Richard Jamison, if one exists.”
Andy had been sitting quietly, gazing at Rhonda’s back as if the wonders of the universe were written there, but now he spoke. He’d read somewhere that women liked dynamic men so he’d decided to show her what he could do.
“How about if Guthrie decided to kill himself and hired someone to do it? His wife would get all the money, plus, if he’d arranged for Jamison’s hair to be planted he’d have incriminated an old rival on his way out.”
There was silence while everyone considered what he’d said. Finally Craig gave a small nod.
“Maybe…but unlikely. As we said before, Guthrie would be dead, and no matter how much he loved his wife that’s a pretty drastic way to make her rich. Plus we have no evidence that Jamison and Guthrie were anything but friends.”
Andy went to object, certain that disagreeing showed virility as well and was bound to impress, but Craig cut him off.
“But…if someone can demonstrate animosity between either Cecilia Guthrie or her husband and Richard Jamison, serious animosity, then I’ll look at these theories again. Until then we’re working to the theory that an unknown and not a professional killer killed Dominic Guthrie of his own volition and framed Richard Jamison when he did. That means…”
Liam tapped the ‘why?’ on the board. “That means the investigation hinges on finding a motive for framing Jamison.”
Annette frowned. “More than a motive for killing Guthrie?”
Craig shrugged. “My guess is that killing Dominic Guthrie was just a means to an end. The real target was Jamison.”
Liam nodded. “So, like I said, motive. Who has Jamison pissed off so badly that they’d want to ruin him? And what crooked deal were Jamison and Guthrie up to on the day he died? That’s undoubtedly the reason Jamison was skipping the UK, so what was it?”
Craig stood up, taking the briefing back just as Reggie reappeared.
“Guthrie left Jamison’s office at eight-fifty on Friday night.”
“Good, that works with Fitzhenry’s sighting of him. OK, the deal between Guthrie and Jamison is of interest but my guess is that the reason for framing Richard Jamison lies much further back. Ash and Davy, I want every part of Jamison’s life investigated.”
Ash yawned. “His wife and kids as well?”
“Only peripherally. His wife had no idea that they weren’t returning from the Caribbean. She thought they were on a few weeks holiday. Annette, I want Fitzhenry to look at the CCTV footage. We’ve got a blurred image of a man that coincides with the time he saw someone. Let’s see if it’s the same man. And run Terry Mallon’s description of the man who approached him outside the Odyssey past Fitzhenry as well, then show the blurred footage to Mallon too. Let’s see if we can nail this bastard down.”
He turned to see Andy making cow eyes at their newest recruit. “Andy…” Andy jerked upright at his name. “Is apparently a super-recogniser.” The D.C.I. puffed out his chest proudly. “He’ll explain what that means after we finish. So please run all images past him. He’ll be here looking at CCTV footage for most of the day.”
Davy gave Andy an admiring look and Craig knew he would be quizzing him as soon as the briefing came to an end. He started to round up.
“OK, we have a killer with an unknown motive and no decent description, who was almost certainly wearing a disguise. The chances of I.D.ing him are slim to none unless we can find out why he hates Richard Jamison so much. That means anyone who doesn’t have searches or interviews to do I want you to help Davy and Ash in looking into Jamison’s past. Liam and I will be going back to re-interview him, as soon as I see what Nicola O’Hara’s been able to dig up.”
He turned towards his office in a way that said ‘we’re done’ and walked over to Nicky’s desk.
“Nicky, did Nicola leave anything for me?”
She rummaged in her top drawer for a moment and pulled out an envelope. “Just this.” As he opened it she added. “She’s nice. Of course, it stands to reason with her name.”
Craig smiled as he read. Finally some good news! He lifted a coffee cupcake, always willing to ingest caffeine in any form, took a bite and then leaned in to whisper something in Nicky’s ear. As he strode towards the double-doors, beckoning Liam to follow, she blushed to the tip of her nose. Liam couldn’t let it pass.
“Here, what’s all the whispering about? If anyone’s going to whisper in Nicky’s ear it’s going to be me.”
He’d had an innocent crush on the P.A. for years and was certain that it was secretly returned.
Craig entered the lift and pressed ‘basement’. “I told her that her cupcakes tasted far better than Rhonda’s.”
“You flirting again?”
Craig took another bite and shook his head. “It’s the truth. This is great.”
As they reached the car he threw Liam the keys, intent on finishing his cake en route. Liam was intent on something else.
“Did you notice Andy and Rhonda?”
Craig rolled his eyes. He really didn’t want another office romance. The one between Carmen and Ken had almost ended in blood. And he certainly didn’t want to gossip about it like a teenage girl, but he knew that Liam would talk no matter what he wanted so he waved him on with a heavy sigh.
“Tell me what you think, then. I know it’s only a matter of time.”
As Liam sped up the ramp onto Pilot Street at an over-the-top fifty miles per hour Craig hastily fastened his belt.
“Well, Angel’s trying to impress her but she’s ignoring him. It’s obvious. Mind you, I wonder what happened to cause that. They looked cosy cosy last night.”
Craig shook his head wearily. “Oh God, you know what that means.”
“If I knew I wouldn’t be wondering, would I?”
Craig ignored the caustic remark. “Andy came in this morning full of the joys of spring.”
“Which means they-”
“Got on well last night. But now Rhonda’s ignoring him so that means-”
Liam swerved past The Albert Clock into High Street.
“He thought that it went better than her.”
“Or… it went well for both of them but she doesn’t want to take it any further.”
As he pulled into the parking lot the gossiping
D.C.I. gave a loud guffaw. “Old Angel was a one night stand! That’s brilliant.”
“It wouldn’t be so brilliant if it was you, would it?” He opened his door then turned to squint at Liam in warning. “And we’re only surmising this so not a word to anyone. Andy’s a D.C.I. and it would undermine his authority with the team.”
Liam locked up and chucked Craig’s car keys in the air, catching them in one hand. “More than falling asleep and eating chocolate all day does?”
“Liam…”
But the unsympathetic D.C.I. was already ten feet ahead; the adult equivalent of sticking his fingers in his ears.
Chapter Eight
Richard Jamison seemed surprised to see them, although how he could be was anyone’s guess. When you’ve been sitting in a police cell for two days, your main visitors a sergeant with a dry sense of humour, a wife who keeps sniffing into her hankie and a solicitor whose head is tilted so far north he converses with the ceiling most of the time, it would be hard to be surprised when the two detectives who put you in there reappeared. Yet surprised he looked.
Or maybe not surprised, perhaps bemused would be a better description. As if they’d woken him from his sleep despite it being almost noon. To Craig he resembled the dormouse in Alice in Wonderland, head emerging from a teapot, sleepy and confused. To Liam he just looked like a lazy git who should have been doing press ups in his six by eight to atone for whatever sins he’d committed, instead of sleeping the sleep of the innocent.
But strangely Richard Jamison was innocent; of Dominic Guthrie’s murder any way. The note Nicola O’Hara had left said that if Guthrie’s currency swop research had been actioned in a particular way then a clause in international law meant Jamison could be done for serious fraud. The next time he would be free to travel anywhere they’d probably have invented planes without wings.
With the note safely in his pocket and a slowly clearing view of his case, Craig pulled out a chair and nodded Jack into the viewing room, while Liam yawned noisily and then pulled out his own. Ronald Lewiston stared pointedly at the clock, reminding them that they were approaching forty-eight hours detention. If they wanted to hold the business magnate any longer they’d have to charge him or extend his hold under PACE.
The Talion Code Page 23