Deadly Deceit

by Nancy Buckingham

  Questions were piling up in Kate’s brain. But now that Murdoch was well launched, she thought it best to let him tell the story in his own way.

  ‘So what then?’ she prompted him.

  ‘ Vince said I was in it up to my neck, because it would never have happened if Sebastian and I hadn’t been trying to cut his mother out of what was due to her. So he insisted I must help them. It was important to make absolutely sure that Sebastian’s body was never found, he told me. And Vince said that he’d thought of a good idea. If we buried it in that big refuse tip at Pendean, then more rubbish would get dumped on top of it and the body would be gone for good.’

  ‘I see. How did he plan to get inside the tip? He must have known that it would be locked up when the council workmen weren’t there.’

  ‘Yes, of course he did. That’s why he wanted my help. He said we could use one of the firm’s delivery vans, and I was to collect it from the warehouse and drive it to their house. We loaded the . . . the body - oh God, I was fond of Sebastian. I’d known him most of his life, and he was going to be my son-in-law.’ Murdoch buried his face in his hands again, and his whole frame was shaking. It was several moments before he was able to pull himself together.

  ‘I want to know how the plan was carried out,’ Kate said. ‘Tell me what happened, every detail.’

  ‘We had to wait until it was dark, of course. When we finally got to the tip, I parked the van right up against the entrance gates, sideways on. Vince had put a short metal ladder in the van along with . . . the body, and he climbed onto the roof and lowered the ladder down against the inside of the gate. Then he got over and stood on the ladder and I had to hump the body over to him. I followed him over the gate, and the two of us carried it to the spot where they’d been tipping recently. That way, Vince said, no one would notice any disturbance to the surface. He used a plank of wood that was lying around to make a sort of hole in the loose rubbish and we pushed Seb . . . the body in, and covered it up.’

  ‘Charming,’ Boulter observed. ‘I hope you remembered to say the last rites over the dear departed.’

  ‘What about Knox’s car?’ Kate asked. ‘That would still have been parked at Heather’s house.’

  Murdoch nodded. ‘The plan was to drive the car somewhere and just leave it, so you would think Sebastian had abandoned it and made off somewhere. I knew you suspected him of having killed Slater, and it would look as if he was guilty and had decided to make a run for it. But when Vince and I got back to the house, the wretched car wouldn’t start. God knows what was wrong, but we just couldn’t get it going. We were all in quite a panic about it. Vince said if we towed the car away and then left it, your forensic people would be sure to find evidence that it had been towed, and that would start a hue and cry to find whoever had done it. What we needed, he said, was somewhere to dump it where it wouldn’t be found for a long time. It was Heather who thought of the reservoir at Frensham woods. Someone had mentioned to her once that the water by the jetty there is very deep. So I used my van to tow the car, with Vince steering it, and Heather came along too. It wasn’t far, only about a mile and a half through the lanes, and it was quite late by then. Luckily, we didn’t meet a single soul. When we reached the reservoir, we untied the tow rope and all three of us pushed the Aston Martin over the edge of the jetty into the water.’

  There was a comedy element in the thought of them being thrown into panic because Sebastian’s car wouldn’t start. But considering everything, Kate had to admire their ingenuity.

  ‘So finally,’ she said, ‘you drove Heather and Vince home, returned the van to the wine warehouse, and drove home yourself?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. So you see, I didn’t kill Sebastian or have any hand in killing him. What I did . . . well, I had to, didn’t I? Vince forced me into it.’

  ‘You were an accessory after the fact to the killing, though.’

  ‘I realise that. But it’s not the same as actually doing it, is it?’

  Kate didn’t trouble to debate the point. ‘Tell me more about these thefts you were engaged in. I gather that Sebastian Knox was involved, too.’

  ‘I wish to God that Alec and I had never got into all that,’ Murdoch groaned. ‘If only we’d left it well alone.’

  Belated regret was something Kate had heard from arrested criminals more times than she could count.

  ‘Why did you get involved?’ she demanded.

  ‘Well, when we first started up the wine business, after we’d both retired, we thought it would be all plain sailing. We knew a fair amount about wines, you see, and we managed to set up a network of decent suppliers. But we soon found ourselves having cash flow problems, and it began to look as if we’d have to shut up shop and cut our losses. Then George Knox, who was the firm’s solicitor - that’s Sebastian’s father -told us he knew of a way we could solve all our difficulties and come out with a handsome profit. He had a Spanish client who owned several vineyards, who also happened to have a source of valuable items that could be removed from churches and monasteries in Spain and Portugal. And there was another client of George’s who was a jeweller and watchmaker in Fordingham who would be able to break up these things and remake them into saleable items of jewellery. The problem was getting the goods brought into this country without arousing suspicion. A set-up like ours, George said, would be ideal.’

  ‘So how did the system operate?’ Kate asked.

  ‘Well, the stuff was carefully packed up and sealed into wine cases, and these were marked in a secret way so Alec and I could instantly recognise them. Then when a consignment arrived, we took it over to Allbright in Fordingham.’

  ‘And this client in Spain?’ Kate asked. ‘Who’s that?’

  Luckily, Murdoch was ready to spill everything in an attempt to mitigate his own guilt. ‘It was a woman. George Knox had first met her in this country because she keeps horses over here. Racehorses. I think she and George . . . well, I believe they had something of an affair.’

  ‘Dona Carlota Martinez,’ said Kate softly, with a brief glance at Boulter.

  Murdoch looked surprised that she knew. ‘I only ever met her once, back at the start. The others thought the less contact we had, the less risk. Alec knew her better, though, and after he was killed she got worried that I might bring another partner into the wine business. It was largely to reassure her that I offered to buy out the half share that Heather had inherited from Alec. She’d promised to stake me if I couldn’t raise enough cash.’

  ‘I happen to know that Dona Carlota Martinez was in England around that time,’ Kate observed. The lady had dined with the Chief Constable, hadn’t she? ‘Are you sure you didn’t meet her again, then, to discuss all this?’

  ‘No, I didn’t,’ Murdoch insisted. ‘I kept well clear. Sebastian did all the negotiations for me. As a matter of fact, he was with her on the evening that Slater was killed.’

  Which accounts, Kate, for Sebastian’s hurriedly stitched-up alibi with Dawn Grainger about having spent the night with her.

  ‘Was Sebastian involved in your illicit importing operation prior to his father’s death?’

  ‘Yes. Well, he had to know, of course. Being in partnership with his father, he’d have realised something odd was going on.’

  ‘Heather Bletchley didn’t know,’ said Kate. ‘How about your wife, and Sebastian’s mother?’

  ‘Oh no, none of the women knew anything about it. George Knox said that you could never trust a woman not to chatter, and it was best to keep it just between us men - except for Dona Carlota, of course.’

  ‘And what about the secretary, Miss Fittleworth? Wouldn’t she have been aware that something fishy was going on?’

  Murdoch allowed himself a faint smile. ‘Even if she did, she knew which side her bread was buttered. She was George Knox’s mistress for years, and he was always very generous to her.’

  An altogether charming man, Kate thought ironically, with a nice old-fashioned gentleman’s philosophy.
>
  ‘Where does Vince Norden fit into all this?’ she asked.

  ‘He only came in after Alec’s death. Sebastian said we’d have to search through all Alec’s papers in case he might have left anything incriminating. I was to take care of the business side of things, and he’d see to the private stuff. As Alec’s solicitor, in charge of winding up the estate, he had full access to everything, of course. But the trouble was that Heather had too, because she had Alec’s keys, including the one to the safe in his study. At first Heather had been only too eager for me to buy out Alec’s interest in the wine business, but then she suddenly changed her tune. I don’t know what she and Vince stumbled across that enabled them to put two and two together, but the next thing was that Vince came to me and demanded that his mother should go on receiving Alec’s share of the profits. All of the profits.’

  ‘Meaning a cut in the proceeds from the stolen religious artefacts, too? But you and Sebastian wouldn’t go along with that?’

  ‘I thought they’d got us over a barrel, but Sebastian wouldn’t agree. He said that a chap like Vince could never be trusted to keep his mouth shut. He wasn’t one of us.’

  Huh!

  ‘What was Sebastian proposing to do about Vince, then?’ Kate enquired. ‘You’re not suggesting that he was contemplating murder?’

  Murdoch blanched. ‘Good God, no. But Alec had often grumbled to us about his no-good stepson, and we had a fair idea that Vince must have been involved in a few shady deals in the past. Sebastian was prepared to offer him a fair pay-off, and he reckoned that he could threaten Vince by telling him he’d be in deep trouble himself if he ever tried to drop us in it. Knowing what a temper Sebastian has I was afraid that things could become violent and I wanted no part of it. That’s why I wouldn’t go with him to tackle Vince.’

  Kate had a sudden thought. ‘That phone call from Sebastian on Friday afternoon - made from his office, I take it. Did he slam the phone down on you in a temper?’

  ‘Yes. How did you know?’

  ‘I know,’ Kate said, ‘because the secretary told me about him getting so enraged that he flung the phone down and smashed it.’

  Murdoch sighed. ‘Yes, Sebastian did have a nasty temper when he was roused. That’s why I was afraid he might beat Vince up or something. As things turned out, though, it was Sebastian who came off worse. But I wasn’t there. I had no hand whatsoever in his death. You do believe that, don’t you?’

  ‘It makes little difference,’ Kate said wearily, ‘whether or not you were actually there at the time. You’re still deeply involved in this whole ugly business, make no mistake about that.’

  Murdoch raised his head and stared at her, his usually florid face a nasty grey colour. ‘What’s going to happen to me?’

  ‘I haven’t begun to formulate the charges against you yet,’ Kate told him. ‘But I wouldn’t advise you to start making plans for your summer holidays.’

  ‘Oh, dear.’ As if the thought had just occurred to him, he added, ‘What will become of my poor wife?’

  ‘You’re a bit late worrying about her, aren’t you? And you have a daughter too, don’t forget. A daughter you were willing to marry off to a man who - as you yourself have admitted - possessed a violent temper. Just because it suited you to keep your criminal activities within the family.’

  ‘It would have been a good marriage,’ Murdoch protested in a whining voice. ‘Sebastian was somebody, and she’d have been well set up for life, with a husband who could provide her with a nice home and give her a decent background in which to bring up her children. Jillian was a fool not to realise that. Instead she seems bent on throwing herself away on some young nobody in your lot who’s got all kinds of peculiar ideas.’

  The warped, sanctimonious bastard. Kate felt she would choke if she remained in Murdoch’s presence for a moment longer. She needed to breathe some good clean air.

  She said, with no emotion leaking into her voice, ‘The interview will be interrupted at this point for a break.’ She added the time and date, and the names of those present. Then, raising to her feet, Kate walked out of the room.

  * * * *

  In the summer twilight, a police car drew up on the verge of a lonely stretch of country road. Its driver, PC Ken Farrow, had drunk a few too many cups of tea in the canteen before setting out on patrol and needed a pee.

  As he zipped himself up, feeling distinctly happier, he noticed the glint of shiny metal among the bushes. In the fading light he couldn’t be sure, but it looked like a car. Just a pair of lovers, was his first thought. But what chap would risk his paintwork among those scratchy brambles? There was no shortage of other places to go. Better take a dekko, he decided, just in case. He turned back to collect the flashlamp from the dashboard shelf.

  The car, a dark blue Cavalier, had smashed its way through a thicket of bracken and low bushes and come to a stop just short of a massive beech tree. A woman sat behind the wheel, slumped sideways against the window. Farrow’s flashlamp showed him a bottle of paracetamol on the seat beside her and one of those foil strips containing pills, empty now. There was also a bottle of wine lying on its side with its cork missing and most of the liquid gone.

  PC Farrow swiftly checked the woman and found she was still breathing. But only just. He used his pocket radio to summon assistance, then began doing what he could to resuscitate her.

  * * * *

  The discovery of Heather Bletchley in a state of unconsciousness was reported to Kate while she and Boulter were snatching something to eat in the canteen. In her case it was a cream cheese and tomato sandwich. The sergeant was wolfing down a plate of pork pie, beans and chips.

  ‘It looks like a heavy overdose, ma’am,’ said the DC who’d brought the news. ‘Both Mogadon and paracetamol, plus alcohol. She certainly meant to snuff it. PC Farrow managed to keep her breathing till the ambulance came, and she’s just about hanging on. The doctors at the hospital don’t hold out much hope, though.’

  ‘Okay, Geoff. Thanks. Come on, Tim, leave that food. We’ve got work to do.’

  Boulter followed her at once, but the half-eaten pork pie came with him.

  At the Peace Memorial Hospital, only a two minute drive away, they found Heather Bletchley’s condition unchanged. Kate was informed that even if she did regain consciousness there would be no possibility of questioning her for quite a while. Not before morning, at any rate.

  They learned nothing more about the suicide attempt than the brief initial report had indicated. Almost certainly, Heather had set out from home with the intention of killing herself. The sleeping pills and paracetamol might just possibly have been in her handbag by chance, but hardly the bottle of wine she’d used to help them down.

  ‘Looks to me,’ said Boulter, ‘as if she snatched up the wherewithal to do herself in as soon as she got Vince’s tip-off, then beat it out of the house. Vince must have realised when our lads turned up at the wine warehouse to arrest Murdoch that the game was up for him and his mother.’

  Kate agreed. ‘Heather would have known that if we were on our way to arrest her, we’d arrive before an overdose could have taken effect. So she drove her car to a quiet spot where she was unlikely to be found until it was too late to save her.’ She frowned. ‘But I find it hard to believe that Vince would have intended this to happen.’

  ‘Unless, guv, they’d made a suicide pact in advance.’

  ‘That’s always possible, I suppose. Those two are extremely close. Which means, if you’re right, Tim, that we’ll be getting a report of another OD case any time now.’

  ‘She didn’t leave a suicide note,’ Boulter pointed out. ‘That’s odd. Suicides usually feel impelled to explain why they did it, don’t they?’

  ‘Maybe she was leaving all that for Vince to do.’

  But there was a suicide note - or rather there were two. When they reached the scene where Heather’s car had been found, having struggled through a tangled mass of brambles to get there, the PC on guard hande
d Kate a folded road map.

  ‘There’s something written on the back of it that seems to be meant for you, ma’am.’

  Boulter shone a light for her to see by. What Kate started reading first was actually a letter to Vince. It was written in an oddly neat, precise hand.

  My darling Vince,

  This seems the only way out, so please forgive me. I am leaving a long letter for Kate Maddox explaining everything, then you won’t get blamed for what you didn’t do. I realise now that I shouldn’t have started on any of this. Damn Barry for talking me into it. I only agreed because I thought it would work out well for you and me. That’s what I wanted all along, my darling. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. The one and only thing that ever really mattered in my whole life. All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy. I’m afraid there’s going to be a bit of trouble ahead of you, but I hope it won’t be too bad. Don’t be sad about me, my dearest boy. And when the worst is over, I hope you can be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you. Oh, I’ve said that already. But it’s the truth.

  Goodbye now, Vince darling, and all my love.

  ‘Heather is shouldering the blame for everything, Tim.’

  ‘Looks like it.’ Boulter had been reading over Kate’s shoulder. ‘Let’s see what she says to you.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  The letter to Kate started over a fold of the map. The handwriting was less precise.

  Dear Kate,

  You were very kind to me in Lisbon after Alec’s death and I felt bad about using you the way I did. It’s very important for you to know how it all happened, because you mustn’t blame Vince. He didn’t come into it, not killing Alec or Barry Slater. It was only Sebastian’s death he had anything to do with, and that was an accident. I swear it.

  Killing my husband was Barry’s idea. I’d been grumbling to him about how Alec was being so difficult about letting me help Vince with money. Barry and I go way back, from before I married Alec, and I sometimes used to see him in London when I went up to see Vince, which I had to do because Alec was so beastly to Vince and wouldn’t even let him visit the house. That was the worst disappointment with Alec - the way he wouldn’t let me help my own son, when the real reason I’d married him in the first place was to give us both security. The truth is that Alec was jealous. He was crazy about me, but he knew that Vince always came first.