The DI Tremayne Thriller Box Set

by Phillip Strang

‘With Pearson?’

  ‘Len, how the hell do I know? I’m your brother, not your keeper. Do you think Fiona would be capable?’

  ‘To protect her perfect life? She’d be capable of anything.’

  ‘Even the murder of Gordon Mason, of Geoff Pearson?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Whatever you do, don’t tell the police of your suspicions. They’ve got enough to convict her.’

  ‘For what? Pearson fell to his death.’

  ‘A long way. He may not have died; she may not have known the wall was there.’

  ‘It’s not murder then?’

  ‘The police will make sure the case is tight. If they can tie her in with Mason’s death, then it will not look good for her.’

  ‘I need to see her,’ Len Dowling said.

  ‘Are you capable of murder, Len?’

  ‘Why me? I’m the wronged party here. I’m the one with the cheating wife.’

  ‘If you had known, what would you have done?’

  ‘I would have forgiven her.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I love her.’

  ‘After what she’s done?’

  ‘I can forgive, I can’t replace.’

  ‘Len, you’re a weak excuse for a man.’

  ‘What would you have done?’

  ‘I’d have beaten the living daylights out of her, and made sure that Pearson never walked again.’

  ‘And Gordon Mason?’

  ‘That bastard. He would have had an accident.’

  ‘Maybe you killed him.’

  ‘Why? He had nothing on me, only you. And besides, I want my money from your business within forty-eight hours.’

  ‘Will you defend Fiona?’

  ‘I’ll do that once you’ve paid me the money.’

  ‘I need longer.’

  ‘Forty-eight hours.’

  ‘You’re a bastard, Chris.’

  ‘I know it, and I’m proud of it. Just because I have a snivelling weasel of a brother doesn’t mean I have to be like him.’

  Chapter 19

  Tremayne came into the office later in the morning. Clare could see that he was not well. ‘What is it, guv?’

  ‘I had trouble sleeping, nothing more.’

  The man did look tired, not surprising given the long night that they had just endured. She said no more on the subject.

  ‘Pearson’s family?’ Tremayne asked.

  ‘His father will conduct a formal identification today.’

  ‘Fiona Dowling?’

  ‘Cheryl Pearson is with her.’

  ‘Is that wise?’

  ‘I’ve ensured a constable is present.’

  ‘Fair enough. And the husband?’

  ‘He’s not been here yet.’

  ‘Was Pearson one of the murderers?’

  ‘It seems possible, although Mason’s blackmailing of Fiona Dowling was none of his concern. He was a young man with a married woman. Nobody is going to criticise him; his friends will probably buy him a drink. If Mason knew, it was not a motive.’

  ‘Fiona couldn’t have killed the man, but someone could on her behalf.’

  ‘There’d still need to be two.’

  ‘We’ve always assumed that.’

  ‘Could it be only one?’

  ‘Not in the assassination scene.’

  ‘It’s bizarre,’ Clare said.

  ‘But why the stage? And then why does Fiona Dowling confront Pearson when we’re not far away?’

  ‘Pearson’s death could still have been an unfortunate accident. Fiona’s angry, the man has turned her over for a young and innocent girl. She’s feeling her age, realising that her life is not as perfect as she likes to portray. She stalks Pearson, hoping to confront him with his girlfriend, to intimidate him and to scare her off, to convince Pearson that she needs him and that she can care for him.’

  ‘That wasn’t the story we got from Fiona Dowling,’ Tremayne said.

  ‘No woman wants to admit that she’s getting old, that she can’t turn a man’s head.’

  ‘And that would be important to her?’

  ‘Critical, I’d say. It would be a motive for a confrontation, for violence if she lashed out. I don’t believe that she intended to kill him. She had no issue with hitting him or the girlfriend, but it wasn’t murder. The charge won’t stick.’

  ‘Are you saying that we should release her?’

  ‘What can you charge her with, assault occasioning actual bodily harm?’

  ‘Not really. If she had hit Pearson or the girlfriend out of anger or jealousy, it’s not a custodial sentence. She’d be bound over by a magistrate to keep her distance, maintain the peace, probably some community service and anger management.’

  ***

  Fiona Dowling and Cheryl Pearson sat across from each other in a small room. A policewoman stood to one side at a discreet distance. It was not the first time in a police station for Cheryl, as she’d spent the occasional night in the cells for committing an affray, the result of too much alcohol. For Fiona, it was a new experience. The two women held hands across the table.

  ‘You should have told me that Gordon knew,’ Cheryl said.

  ‘You knew about Geoff and me?’ Fiona said. She was still wearing the same clothes from the night before.

  ‘I saw you with him.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘In your house. Both of you were on the floor.’

  ‘And you didn’t tell me?’

  ‘What was there to tell? You’re my oldest friend. I wasn’t passing judgement, and I wasn’t about to tell anyone.’

  ‘Gary?’

  ‘He knows, but he’ll never tell anyone.’

  ‘And Geoff?’

  ‘He saw me when you two were on the floor. Believe me, you weren’t focussing by then.’

  ‘You must think me an awful tart,’ Fiona Dowling said.

  ‘We’ve both been tarts in our day. I’ve worked it out of my system, you haven’t.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to kill Geoff. I was angry, hurt.’

  ‘How did Gordon find out?’

  ‘I’ve no idea. Geoff wouldn’t have told anyone.’

  ‘I couldn’t get him to talk about it afterwards,’ Cheryl said.

  ‘You tried?’

  ‘We used to tease him. Sorry, it was at your expense, but he never said anything, and he wouldn’t have told Gordon.’

  ‘Then who else would have known?’

  ‘Did Len ever suspect?’

  ‘Never. It’s not been good between us for some years, but Len is not the jealous type. He wouldn’t have known about Geoff.’

  ‘Were there others?’

  ‘Geoff was the only one. It’s not always been easy. Len is not the great lover.’

  ‘I remember that.’

  ‘You’ve slept with him?’

  ‘You know I did. The week before you latched on to him.’

  ‘We were terrible,’ Fiona said. The first smile since Old Sarum crept across her face.

  ‘It was fun, though,’ Cheryl said. The women squeezed each other’s hands. The policewoman looked, said nothing.

  ‘I miss it sometimes.’

  ‘You’ve chosen your life, I’ve chosen mine. I may have a unambitious man, a lousy job, and a disgusting place to live, but I’m happier than you.’

  ‘If I get out of here, I’ll follow your example,’ Fiona said.

  ‘Don’t make promises you won’t keep. If you walk away from here, you’ll either stay in Salisbury or you won’t, you’ll stay with Len, or you won’t, but in a couple of years, you’ll have your social set and your perfect life. For me, I’ll marry Gary and keep him happy. He can stay just the way he is.’

  ‘You’re a true friend,’ Fiona said.

  ‘Not good enough to introduce to your social set.’

  ‘None of them will be down here to visit me. I’ll be a parasite once the news of Geoff’s death becomes public knowledge.’

  ‘What are you going to do about
Len?’

  ‘I’ll fix it up with him somehow. He’s the one constant, even if he can be a pain sometimes.’

  ‘And lousy in bed,’ Cheryl added. ‘You can always take another lover.’

  ‘Not again. I’ve learnt my lesson there.’

  The two women parted. Len, Fiona’s husband, was outside and wanting to talk to his wife.

  Cheryl left the room, smiled at Len as she walked past him. He glanced over at her and gave a weak smile, the only recognition he was capable of. Cheryl knew of two certainties: Fiona, her friend, would survive regardless, and that she’d find another man if it were necessary.

  ***

  Jimmy Francombe had skipped school, and Trevor Winston had left his salon for his assistant to run. Gary Barker was not present, as he already knew the news. Phillip Dennison was due shortly. Peter Freestone, a busy man that day, had put his work to one side. The situation was grim.

  The men sat in Freestone’s office. It was still early, and the news had not permeated through the city. ‘Geoff Pearson died last night,’ Freestone said.

  ‘What!’ Jimmy Francombe said.

  ‘After you left, his body was found near the old cathedral. If you know it, there’s some of the original building and a drop to one side.’

  ‘I know it,’ Dennison said, as he came in the door.

  ‘So do I,’ Francombe said.

  ‘Not me, but carry on,’ Winston said. ‘What were you saying about Geoff?’

  ‘Geoff Pearson fell over the drop and was killed.’

  ‘Are you certain?’ Dennison asked.

  ‘I was there. I saw his body. Fiona Dowling has been arrested.’

  ‘On what charge?’

  ‘Murder.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘She’s admitted to an altercation with him.’

  ‘Why would Fiona fight with Geoff? I always thought they were friendly,’ Winston said. ‘She used to come into my salon. She only had good words to say about him, about all of us.’

  ‘The police will probably want to interview us again.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘We were there at their re-enactment and went home,’ Dennison said.

  ‘There’s still the matter of Gordon Mason.’

  ‘Did Geoff kill him? Is that the reason Fiona argued with him?’ Winston asked.

  ‘Are you kidding?’ Francombe said. ‘She hated Mason, more than any of us.’

  ‘Hate. That’s a strong word.’

  ‘Dislike, not hate.’

  ‘Did you hate Mason?’ Freestone asked.

  ‘Okay,’ Francombe admitted, ‘I hated the man with his snide remarks.’

  ‘Enough to kill him?’ Dennison asked.

  ‘Why me? He fancied your wife. I saw you and Mason outside. I saw you hit him.’

  ‘Is that correct?’ Winston asked.

  ‘He made an inappropriate comment about Samantha,’ Dennison said.

  ‘He made inappropriate comments about everyone, especially me,’ Winston said.

  ‘I may have hit him, but I didn’t kill him.’

  ‘How do we know?’ Freestone asked.

  ‘You’ve not answered why Fiona was arguing with Geoff,’ Dennison said.

  ‘They were involved.’

  ‘An affair?’ Winston said.

  ‘Good old Geoff,’ Francombe said.

  ‘He may have been good old Geoff to you, but the man’s dead as a result,’ Freestone said. ‘Did anyone else know about this?’

  ‘She always had eyes for him, but Len was always there. I assumed that was all it was,’ Winston said.

  ‘Apparently not. I don’t know the full story, only snippets from what I gleaned up at Old Sarum. No doubt the police will know a lot more.’

  ‘If Geoff was one of the murderers, that still means that one of us is guilty,’ Winston said. ‘Who is it? And why are we meeting here? One of you could take out a knife now and stab us.’

  ‘Get real, Trevor,’ Dennison said. ‘I don’t know how it was done, but it wasn’t any of us.’

  ‘Can you be sure?’ Freestone said.

  ‘I am.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘None of you have the nerve.’

  ‘Gary Barker and Bill Ford are not here.’

  ‘Maybe Gary, maybe Bill.’

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ Freestone said.

  ‘I’m leaving, important issues to deal with,’ Dennison said.

  ‘Was Geoff messing around with your wife as well?’ Winston asked.

  Dennison, a man angered by his financial losses and by his wife’s behaviour, lunged forward at the hairdresser, striking him across the face.

  ‘Back off, Dennison. Trevor’s winding you up. You know he’s a mincing little queer,’ Freestone said.

  ‘I’ll not have anyone making comments about my wife,’ Dennison said.

  ‘If you don’t want comments, then don’t let her parade herself in public half-undressed. She’s got a reputation as it is,’ Winston said, cowering in a corner of the room.

  ‘I’ve heard the rumours,’ Jimmy Francombe said.

  ‘You little bastard. I’ll get you for that,’ Dennison said, freeing himself from Freestone’s grip. He grabbed the young man and smashed his head against the wall. He then stormed out of the room.

  Winston moved over to Francombe, took a handkerchief out of his pocket and attempted to wipe away the blood. ‘You’ll need some stitches there.’

  ‘That man could kill,’ Freestone said. ‘We need to tell the police.’

  ‘You can deal with it,’ Winston said. ‘I’m taking Jimmy to the doctor’s.’

  ***

  Len Dowling sat across from his wife in the small room at the police station. Fiona Dowling avoided his gaze, her head held low. ‘It was an accident,’ she said.

  ‘You were screwing him,’ Len Dowling said.

  ‘I made a mistake.’

  ‘You’ve made me look a fool. How am I going to continue in this city?’

  ‘Is that all you’re concerned about, your precious reputation? What about the fact that I was having an affair? Doesn’t that upset you?’

  Both of them were on their feet. ‘I’m sorry, you’ll both have to sit down or I’ll terminate this meeting,’ the policewoman said.

  ‘It won’t happen again,’ Fiona said, resuming her seat. Her husband sat down at the same time.

  ‘I knew that you fancied him,’ Len said.

  ‘Why didn’t you say something?’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘That you loved me and that you didn’t want me making a fool of myself.’

  ‘Why? It’s you who wears the trousers in our house.’

  ‘That’s a terrible comment. I’ve always supported you, driven you on to better things.’

  ‘And screwed around in the meantime, while pretending to your friends. You’re no better than Cheryl. Just a pair of tarts.’

  ‘She has been here. She came as a friend, wanting to help. She didn’t come here as judge and jury, ready to condemn without a trial.’

  ‘What trial? Chris was here when you told the police about getting together with Pearson, your little trysts in our house, the back of the Range Rover.’

  ‘I’ve never told them that. How do you know the details?’

  ‘I’m not a total fool,’ Len Dowling admitted.

  ‘You knew all along? What kind of man are you? What kind of husband? You could have stopped it, given Geoff a good thumping, but what did you do? Nothing, that’s what.’

  ‘At least you left me alone.’

  ‘To do what? Sell more houses? Screw the women in the office?’

  ‘Would you have cared?’

  ‘Of course I would have cared. I want a man, not an excuse. I want a man to love me, to protect me, to care for me.’

  ‘Don’t give me that crap, Fiona. You’re in here feeling sorry for yourself, looking at spending a few years in jail for murdering your lover.’

  ‘He wasn’t my lover. He
’d ended the relationship.’

  ‘You couldn’t keep him satisfied. That’s why he had the young woman with him. He needed someone younger, firmer, not sagging around the edges. Admit it, Fiona, you’re past it.’

  ‘You bastard.’ The two of them were on their feet. Fiona slapped her husband across the face; Len Dowling punched his wife. The policewoman pressed a bell; two police officers came in and separated the warring couple. The policewoman took hold of Fiona Dowling and escorted her back to her cell, arranging for a doctor to visit and check her condition after the punch. Len Dowling was led out to another room to cool down.

  Chapter 20

  Cheryl, oblivious to the events at Bemerton Road Police Station, headed out to the garden centre to see Gary. She realised that it was against her better judgement and she should have phoned, although when Gary was working he always left his phone in his other clothes, having changed into more suitable gardening wear.

  ‘You shouldn’t be here,’ Gary said. ‘If they see you…’

  ‘They can go to hell for once. I’ve met Fiona.’

  ‘How is she?’

  ‘As you’d expect. I’ve also spoken to Sergeant Yarwood.’

  ‘Is there any reason that you’re telling me this now?’

  ‘Gordon Mason knew about Fiona and Geoff. He was attempting to blackmail her.’

  ‘Money?’

  ‘No. He wanted to sleep with her.’

  ‘Did he?’

  ‘Fiona said no. I believe her.’

  ‘How did Mason find out?’

  ‘I never told him, and I trust you, Gary.’

  ‘Then he either saw them together, or Geoff told him.’

  ‘Unless someone else knew.’

  ‘This is all too complicated for me,’ Gary said. ‘Just give me my plants and the soil, and I don’t want any more.’

  ‘That’s why I love you,’ Cheryl said. ‘Fiona can have her action man; I’ll take you.’

  ‘I can be all action.’

  ‘In that bedsit, I know you can.’

  Gary looked up, could see his father coming over. ‘You’d better make yourself scarce.’

  ‘Not today, I’m not. I’ve had to see my oldest friend arrested, a friend of ours killed. Your parents can go to hell.’

  ‘You’re not welcome here. This is private property,’ Gary’s father said. Cheryl could see that he was puffing, even after walking the short distance from the office to where she stood with Gary.