The DI Tremayne Thriller Box Set

by Phillip Strang

  ‘I know. Don’t lecture.’

  ‘You can divorce her, but she’ll take half your assets.’

  ‘She’s welcome to them today.’

  ‘That bad?’

  ‘Tomorrow I’ll make it up.’

  ‘No doubt you will, but Samantha’s not going away. As long as you indulge her, she’ll stay.’

  ‘I’ll talk to her tonight. Tell her what’s happening,’ Dennison said.

  ‘She’ll not be responsive to your charms afterwards.’

  ‘She hasn’t been for some time.’

  ‘Women like her need a man in their bed. Any suspicions?’

  ‘None that I know of. Do you believe that’s possible?’

  ‘We’ve known each other for a long time, what do you think?’

  ‘With who?’

  ‘How the hell would I know? She’s your wife, you ask her. And take the keys of the Aston Martin. You don’t want her fancy man driving it, do you?’

  ***

  ‘It’s all arranged,’ Peter Freestone said. This time Clare had asked him not to smoke his pipe.

  ‘A stand-in for Caesar?’ Tremayne asked.

  ‘I’ve got someone.’

  ‘Another actor?’

  ‘He doesn’t often come, but he will as a special favour to me.’

  ‘He owes you one?’

  ‘I’ve offered to help him out with a business plan. It’s costing me to help you.’

  ‘You’re still a suspect,’ Tremayne said.

  ‘Hopefully, you’ll deduce who is the guilty party at the re-enactment. It’s not much fun sitting in a pub with a man who thinks you might be a murderer.’

  ‘It’s not much fun for me either,’ Tremayne said. ‘At least you’ll drink a beer. Yarwood’s on orange juice, champagne even.’

  ‘Just the once,’ Clare said.

  ‘We’ve drawn a blank on your rezoning. It appears that it was above board.’

  ‘Len Dowling took the risk, reaped the reward,’ Freestone said.

  ‘He’s still a suspect.’

  ‘Who isn’t?’

  ‘Until this is wrapped up, everyone is. Do you deal with Dennison’s tax returns?’

  ‘I have in the past, not recently.’

  ‘Anything unusual?’

  ‘The man understands his tax liabilities, structures his dealings accordingly.’

  ‘Any suggestion of tax avoidance?’

  ‘If there were, I’d be required to notify the authorities.’

  ‘Would you?’

  ‘Don’t use Dennison as a way of getting at me again. I’ve been honest with you.’

  ‘You’ve seen where he lives, the car his wife drives. Do his tax returns reflect his income?’

  ‘I prepare his tax returns based on the information received from him.’

  ‘That’s not what I asked.’

  ‘I know that. I would have prepared Dennison’s tax returns based on the information received. He, as with any other client, will sign that they are declaring the truth. I will then sign that I’ve prepared the return based on the client's input. Legally, I’ve acted in accordance with the law.’

  ‘You’ve still not answered my question,’ Tremayne said.

  ‘I have.’

  ***

  The last person that was expected at the re-enactment was Samantha Dennison, but there she was, sitting in the front row. The cast were all there, although Fiona Dowling had been late arriving, and Len Dowling was complaining about a potential lost sale.

  Phillip Dennison did not appear to be in a good mood, casting glances at his wife, for once dressed sensibly. Nobody seemed to be in the best of humour, apart from Gary Barker and Cheryl Milledge, both of whom had come in costume.

  Tremayne took centre stage at the old fort. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, thanks for coming tonight. I’ve asked Jim Hughes, our crime scene examiner, to be present. It’s not usual for him to attend a re-enactment. I’ve asked him as a special favour as we still have the issue of how Gordon Mason died.’

  ‘I thought that was clear,’ Bill Ford said.

  ‘You’re correct in that we know that he died from two stab wounds to the heart, as well as three others. Four of the five would have ultimately been fatal. The question is, how did those who committed the murder know which dagger would kill him, and how were the fake daggers swapped?’

  ‘Was every dagger we carried on that stage modified?’ Geoff Pearson asked. Clare noticed that he was standing at some distance from Fiona Dowling, his latest girlfriend sitting to one side of Samantha Dennison.

  ‘Two were.’

  ‘And you don’t know who held those two?’ Cheryl Milledge asked.

  ‘No. We’re assuming that whoever had the lethal daggers knew. Jim is certain that a retractable dagger punching the man’s body and one that entered would have distinctly different feels. There is some conjecture on this, as in the scene, frenetic as it was, an adrenaline rush may have confused those taking part. Regardless, we need to see if that was the case. There is also the additional factor of how the daggers were swapped. Peter Freestone brought the fakes here, two of you have testified that they were indeed plastic bladed and harmless. That means the swap occurred here.’

  ‘Someone would have seen,’ Fiona Dowling said.

  ‘Not necessarily. It was dark.’

  ‘It can’t be Cheryl or me.’

  ‘We know there were two daggers, which would suggest two men,’ Tremayne said. ‘Can we be certain that Mason was not stabbed off the stage? It would not have to be a man then. We have, more than likely, two murderers here tonight, possibly three, maybe only one. We need to know how many and who.’

  ‘It makes no sense,’ Gary Barker said. ‘The man was not liked, but three people. What’s the motive?’

  ‘There are motives, but none seem sufficient for murder, and if they were, how do those responsible expect to maintain their innocence. We will find out who did it and they will be arrested. I’ve also arranged for two police cars, five uniforms to be present.’

  ‘That’s intimidation,’ Dennison said.

  ‘It’s policing. Someone here is a murderer. They can either admit to their guilt now, save us all a cold night up here, or we’ll carry on. Any takers?’

  Clare looked around to see innocent looks on all the faces. Samantha Dennison, not present on the night of Mason’s murder, scowled. Clare could see that the situation between her and her husband was not good. She walked over to her. ‘Samantha, I’m surprised to see you here,’ Clare said.

  ‘Phillip’s threatened me.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘He’s had his solicitor on to me.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘He’s a bastard, that’s why. Phillip wants to clip my wings, take the Aston Martin away from me.’

  ‘You do spend a lot.’

  ‘He knew the deal.’

  ‘Is he trading up?’

  ‘The younger model? No. I think he’s lost the edge. He can’t afford me.’

  ‘You’ll take off?’

  ‘Once I’ve secured my share of the deal.’

  ‘And what’s that?’

  ‘Half the assets.’

  ‘For four years of marriage?’

  ‘Phillip did say he’d see me right when the time came.’

  ‘In writing?’

  ‘He’s pleading poverty.’

  ‘Maybe he is.’

  ‘Not him. He’s stashing it somewhere, and he’s got someone making sure I can’t get my hands on it.’

  ‘Any idea who?’

  ‘He’s using Chris Dowling as his solicitor.’

  ‘You know the man?’

  ‘We’ve met.’

  Clare left the woman and went back over to where Tremayne and Freestone were setting up the re-enactment. ‘She’s a bitter woman,’ Clare said to Tremayne.

  ‘You’ve seen Phillip Dennison. He’s not in the best of humour either.’

  Jim Hughes was with Freestone, discussing the dagger
s. ‘These are the ones I’ve purchased for tonight,’ Freestone said. Hughes ran his fingers over the blades, checked the retracting mechanism. He declared them harmless.

  ***

  Tremayne and Clare had focussed on the assassination scene, not the entire production, up to now. The idea that three people could have been involved seemed illogical. And even if it was three, the question remained as to why kill the man on a stage in front of a group of people. If Mason had deserved to die, at least in the minds of the murderers, then why at Old Sarum? The man, it was known, lived in a depressingly drab house not far from Salisbury. Tremayne and Clare had been out there after his death, found nothing of interest, just an unkempt garden, a house that smelt of disinfectant, and not much else, not even a television. There was a library, complete with books, but most were legal or thrillers, neither of which interested Tremayne.

  Peter Freestone, directing as well as playing the part of Brutus, was a busy man. The scene where Mason was killed was some way into the production. Firstly, there were three scenes in Act 1, four scenes in Act 2, not that most people knew the full play, only Mark Antony’s speech to the crowd inciting them against the conspirators, and little else.

  Friends, Romans and countrymen, lend me your ears,

  I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him…

  What concerned Tremayne was how the daggers had been changed and when, and what could have occurred before the assassination. The crowd scenes involved some of Jimmy Francombe’s school friends. Clare had spoken to them, received the Francombe chat-up lines, been asked about the hot date.

  She had brushed them off with a smile, realising that they were just the same as Jimmy: polite, full of testosterone, and desperate to show their friends that they were better than them.

  Act 1, Scene 1, and Bill Ford and Gary Barker were on stage, playing the parts of Flavius and Marullus respectively. Two of Jimmy’s friends were playing the two commoners, one a carpenter, the other a cobbler. Clare sat out the front with Samantha Dennison. Tremayne was around the back. The problem with the re-enactment, Tremayne could see, was that the people taking part were not taking it seriously; there was no sense of urgency. The first act had concluded and Act 1, Scene 2 should have commenced promptly, but it was five minutes, and no one was on the stage. It was the first scene for Caesar, as well as for Casca, Calpurnia, Mark Antony, the soothsayer, Brutus, Cassius, and Trebonius. Caesar was being played by William Bradshaw, an actor who had come down from Swindon, a city about forty miles north of Salisbury. As Freestone had said, the man was familiar with the part, having played it in another production. Tremayne knew that the man was not involved, as he had not been present on the night of Mason’s death.

  The soothsayer, eight lines in total, a minor part, although with the immortal line Beware the ides of March, was played by Robert Hemsworth, a local schoolteacher. Freestone had told Tremayne earlier that the man rarely attended their meetings, never came to the pub, and was not friendly. He was, however, dependable, punctual, and a decent actor. Tremayne had discounted him from being involved. He knew that whoever had swapped the daggers had to have a tie-in with the conspirators. Trebonius, one of the conspirators, played by Hemsworth’s brother, James, had not been present at the stabbing, as his part required that he had to take Mark Antony out of the Senate when Caesar was assassinated.

  Ten minutes later, instead of one, the actors filed onto the stage for Act 1, Scene 2. Trevor Winston was in costume, as was Jimmy Francombe; the others were not.

  Clare looked at Samantha Dennison as her husband came onto the stage; she could see the contempt in the woman’s face. ‘What are you going to do, Samantha?’

  ‘I’ve told you.’

  ‘He’s brought you tonight. He must care.’

  ‘He wants to keep an eye on me.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘In case I do something foolish.’

  ‘Is that likely?’

  ‘It’s always possible.’

  ‘What sort of thing?’

  ‘Cut his clothes with a pair of scissors, run the edge of a coin down his Aston Martin.’

  ‘That seems extreme.’

  ‘Not for that bastard, it isn’t. He’s taken my credit cards.’

  ‘Samantha, someone murdered Gordon Mason. If it’s your husband, he could murder you.’

  ‘Not him.’

  ‘Are you certain? I don’t want to be the one who has to identify you.’

  ‘Do you think he could do something?’

  ‘I don’t know. I suggest you don’t provoke him.’

  ‘I already have.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I told him I had a lover.’

  ‘Is it true?’

  ‘I told him it was Geoff Pearson.’

  ‘Is it true?’

  ‘If he had money it could be, but no.’

  ‘And your husband’s reaction?’

  ‘He slapped me across the face, called me a shameless tart, no better than a common prostitute.’

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘I came here tonight.’

  ‘And Geoff Pearson?’

  ‘Phillip will do nothing.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I hope I am.’

  Chapter 17

  Act 1, Scene 3, and Len Dowling was playing the additional role of Cicero, the only scene in the play where the character appears. Dowling had used a wig to change his appearance on the night of the production. The parts of Casca, Cassius, and Cinna were again played by Trevor Winston, Geoff Pearson, and Gary Barker respectively. Cicero came on with Casca, said his lines and departed, and Cassius walked on.

  Tremayne occupied himself around the back looking for an opportunity to change the daggers, realising that the two lethal weapons could have been hidden under the Roman robes the actors wore. He also realised that all he was going to get that night was cold and wet. It had started to drizzle, and those who had been standing outside or sitting on the grass had moved to somewhere under cover. Tremayne looked for Yarwood; he could see her talking to Samantha Dennison. He did not want to disturb her.

  ‘Do you want to carry on?’ Freestone asked. ‘They’re starting to complain about the weather.’

  ‘Would you have cancelled on the night because of a little rain?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then that’s what we’ll do. So far, I’ve not seen how the daggers were changed.’

  ‘Don’t ask me. I only put on the production, take a leading role on stage.’

  The weather improved, the production continued: Act 2, Scenes 1 to 4 passed by. Tremayne focussed on the daggers, aiming to get an angle on how it was done, and on why the man was murdered during a production of Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, and for what reason.

  The most crucial scene, at least for Tremayne, was Act 3, Scene 1: a crowd of people, Jimmy Francombe’s friends, amongst them the soothsayer and Artemidorus.

  Caesar speaks to the soothsayer: The ides of March are come.

  The soothsayer responds: Ay, Caesar; but not gone.

  Artemidorus, played by another friend of Jimmy Francombe, attempts to warn Caesar about those who plot against him.

  Then Caesar’s entry into the Senate, Metellus pleading for Caesar to end the banishment of his brother, the casting aside of his request.

  The daggers plunging into Caesar: the first by Casca, and then the others, Cassius, Cinna, Metellus, Decius Brutus, Ligarius, and, finally, Brutus.

  Tremayne could see it clearly. The two murderers on the stage had the daggers that had killed Mason hidden inside their robes. Whoever they were, they had brought them with them.

  Tremayne went over to where Clare was sitting. ‘I’ve seen enough,’ he said.

  Clare excused herself to Samantha Dennison and walked away with Tremayne. ‘You know who did it?’

  ‘I know how the daggers were brought in.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘The two who killed Mason had them hidden under their clothes when
they came to Old Sarum, and after they changed into costume, they hid them under their robes. It’s easy once you see it,’ Tremayne said.

  ‘No idea on who, though?’

  ‘None. What’s the deal with Dennison’s wife?’

  ‘He’s clipped her wings.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘According to her, he’s taken away her credit cards, the key to the Aston Martin.’

  ‘She’ll not like that. She’ll be off soon.’

  ‘She wants her money first.’

  ‘How much?’

  ‘Half of everything that the husband has.’

  ‘She’ll be lucky. What security does she have?’

  ‘Only his word. She may have genuinely loved him at first,’ Clare said.

  ‘And now?’

  ‘I don’t think there’s much love left. He threatened her; she told him that Geoff Pearson was her lover.’

  ‘Is he?’

  ‘According to her, he’s not.’

  ‘If Dennison’s a murderer, then Pearson’s compromised.’

  ‘We need to talk to Dennison,’ Clare said. ‘The man’s threatened his wife, and now he believes she’s cheating on him.’

  Tremayne left Clare and went back to Peter Freestone. ‘You can wrap it up. I’ve seen enough.’

  ‘We were just about to go anyway. Did you get what you wanted?’

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘The murderer or murderers?’

  ‘Not yet, but the pieces are coming together.’

  ‘Don’t ask for another re-enactment,’ Freestone said.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘We’re disbanding, too much has happened. It was fun, but now we don’t feel comfortable in each other’s company. Maybe after this is all over, but for now, we’ll not meet, at least not as a dramatic society.’

  ‘Sorry to hear that,’ Tremayne said.

  ***

  The body was found ninety minutes later. By that time, virtually everyone had gone, apart from Tremayne, Clare, and Peter Freestone. The first they knew that something was wrong was when Geoff Pearson’s new girlfriend from Southampton came running over to them. ‘I can’t find Geoff,’ she said.