by T J Harris
The man shook his lowered head. “No, it’s not true. I swear she wanted to see me at Speculation. This doesn’t make any sense.” he mumbled.
Moss and Goldberg looked at each other, tearing their eyes from the screen. “I thought he had him then.” said Goldberg disappointedly.
They continued to watch while Reid took up the questioning about the other contents of his home computer. He passed across a list of the domain names held in the computer’s browsing history and temporary files. The now familiar pattern repeated itself as Williams denied all knowledge.
“You’ve told us that nobody else uses that computer, how can you deny what we’ve found on it?” Williams just ignored him, staring at the floor.
“Do you own any other computers? A laptop for instance.” Williams shook his head, remembered the tape and muttered a negative.
Carver gave it one last crack. “What did you do with the necklace Sean?”
“What necklace? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He started to sob and shake his head.
“I think my client could use a break please.” The solicitor interrupted the questioning, leaning forward on the desk.
The two detectives exchanged a glance before Carver paused the interview. “Good idea, we’ll take a break there.” The two detectives stood up, collected their files and left the man with his solicitor. Williams remained slumped in the chair with his head bowed as the door closed.
The two detectives collected fresh coffee and joined their colleagues in the incident room. “Thought you had him then Boss.” Goldberg greeted them as they sat down.
“Yeh, so did I, it’s a bit odd though. He keeps denying everything until we put it under his nose. I take it there is no CCTV in Speculation either? Nothing that can show he was where he now says he was?”
They had already tried to verify the movements of the three cars belonging to the victim, husband and boyfriend. Helen’s car was spotted by an ANPR system on the A40 roundabout outside Ross, but that was of no help. Of the three vehicles, hers was the only one they knew the movements of. Tony Brooks’s claimed route to work took a series of country lanes to Hereford only being picked up by his own company’s CCTV arriving at eight thirty eight as he claimed. It was no help in knowing if he had indeed stayed in bed after his wife had left the house however, or what route he might have taken in that morning. Williams would also have taken country roads between Ledbury and the forest. There was no record of his car appearing in any CCTV or traffic cameras at all. All they had verified was that it had been parked in Cinderford when Moss had located it and the CSI had taken it away on their low-loader. They had failed to find any WD40 spray in the engine bay, but he had now retracted that story anyway. The forensics specialists had found dust on the tires consistent with driving on a gravel road, but since the gravel for all the forest car parks came from the same local quarry it was impossible to tell which car park he had actually visited.
“I’ve arranged for Tony Brooks to come in.” Moss checked her watch. “He should be here in about half an hour.”
“Good. You take the lead with Reid assisting. Have you worked up an interview strategy?”
She opened one of the folders in front of her and passed her strategy document across to Carver. They discussed it for a while before the desk phone rang. Apparently Tony Brooks had arrived in the reception area. “Go get him tiger.” Carver winked at Moss.
Chapter 11
Moss led Tony Brooks into the family interview suite. It was mainly used with children and vulnerable adults and was a lot more comfortable than the plain room that Williams had been interviewed in. There was a pair of sofas that faced each other rather than the four chairs and there was a sideboard with an assortment of toys and even a bowl of fruit on the low coffee table between them.
Moss started by explaining that since it was a formal interview it would be recorded and that she needed to read him the standard police caution, stressing that it was a formality. She also advised him that if he felt he needed a solicitor that he could have one.
“I don’t think I need one do I?” he responded to the suggestion.
“It’s just a formality.” replied Moss. “We’re obliged to remind you as part of the caution since we’re recording our conversation.”
He perched on the edge of the sofa leaning forward. “Has DI Carver been able to look into her work any further? The more I think about it, the more I think there might be something there. I really can’t understand it otherwise.” He looked across expectantly.
“He’s been looking into it yes, but I’d like to talk about another part of the enquiry if I may?”
Brooks was surprised by the tone. “I’d appreciate an update. You see, I’ve been giving it some more thought. If you think about it, there could be billions at stake. It’s all about market confidence after the vote. Everyone is worried about house prices and exchange rates, how our exports will be hit and then someone comes along and suggests that we won’t even be able to keep the lights on. What do you think that would do the markets?”
Moss sat patiently with a neutral expression on her face. “As I said, DI Carver is looking into it, but…”
“Don’t just dismiss this.” Brooks butted in. “This is big business and big politics. You think multinationals and hedge funds are beyond this kind of behaviour, especially in this climate. Do you know how much money was wiped off the world markets last month after the vote? Two trillion dollars.” He announced without a pause. “Two trillion, the number is so big it hardly makes sense. The big UK banks lost one hundred billion between them, that’s almost the NHS budget for a whole year. You think they want another shock to the system, some other cause for panic?”
“Like I said, DI Carver is looking into it and I’m sure he is taking it very seriously. But if I may, there are a few other things we would like to go through with you.”
Brooks paused and took a breath. “OK, yes of course. What do you want to talk about?” He sat back into the sofa a little.
“Can I begin by asking if you noticed any changes in Helen’s behaviour recently, say in the last six months or so?” Moss asked.
“Not really. She has been working hard, but she enjoyed it and seemed happy enough.”
“Was there any change in your marital relations for instance?”
The question seemed to take Brooks by surprise. “Not really, I mean we’re not twenty five anymore. But we didn’t have any problems.”
“Did Helen share that view? Do you think she was frustrated at all?”
“Now just a minute.” Brooks raised his voice. “What are you trying to get at?”
“What would your reaction be if I suggested that she was having an affair?” Moss posed the question carefully, watching for Brooks reaction.
“That’s ridiculous, simply ridiculous!” Brooks replied. He looked genuinely shocked to Moss. She wondered if this was in fact the first he had heard of the affair.
“I’m sorry to say that it is true. We’re interviewing a man who has admitted having an affair with Helen. We have other evidence which corroborates the story.”
“What do you mean?” Brooks was on his feet now. “This is absurd. You bring me here, dismiss my help and then spout these lies about my wife. How dare you speak about her like that! How dare you!” He paused, then put his hands to his face and started to sob, collapsing back hard into the sofa.
Reid took over the questioning, trying to calm the situation. “I’m sorry Mr Brooks, but it is true I’m afraid, and it will come out in court, if not the media. So it’s best you know now.”
“And this is how you tell me. Christ! You need to go on a course or something love.” He was shouting again and pointing his finger at Moss. “I’ve a good mind to make a formal complaint. This is not how you deal with grieving relatives. Where’s Carver? Why isn’t he here to meet me?” He paused and with a visible level of effort, got control of himself once more. He was still shaking and his face was red.
Gradually his breathing eased and he reached for the glass of water on the coffee table in front of him.
Reid continued while Moss, who was also a little shaken by Brooks’s outburst took a sip of water herself. “Let me explain what we know.”
He laid out the evidence they had collected. He described how Helen had been having an affair with her physiotherapist for the last six months. How she had been sending messages to him using her laptop and finally broke the news that most of times she was supposed to have been away on business, she had actually been staying with her lover in local hotels. Brooks listened in silence, occasionally shaking his head.
Finally he said in a quiet voice. “I can’t believe it. I thought we were happy. We were happy. We had a lovely weekend together only last week…” He stopped abruptly and looked from Reid to Moss. “So did he kill her, this boyfriend of hers? Has he admitted it?”
“We are holding him and questioning him. He has admitted to the affair but not to killing Helen.” She replied then changed tack, adopting the bad cop character once more. “The thing is Mr Brooks, we need to be sure that you didn’t know until now what was going on.”
“What are you saying? That I found out and killed her myself. I’m sorry, I might be an idiot, but I’m not a murderer. Even if I had known, I could never do that.” Brooks was calmer now, so Moss continued.
“I just find it a little difficult to see how she could have got away with it all this time, with you not noticing or suspecting anything. You seemed so close.” she probed. “For instance, all the money she was spending on hotels. How did she explain those expenses?”
“She didn’t need to. Why would she?” He saw the look of confusion on Moss’ face so elaborated. “We have a main joint account for bills and stuff, but our salaries go into separate individual accounts. I guess I don’t know how much she spends on shoes and she doesn’t, sorry didn’t, know how much I spend at the golf club. We both have good jobs, the odd grand here or there wouldn’t notice.” He made the statement in a very matter of fact tone. Moss had no experience of that kind of lifestyle but it still sounded off to her.
“The laptop that you thought was her company machine, the Macbook Pro, would it surprise you to know that she bought it herself?”
“Not especially.” He looked her in the eye while he made the statement. “That’s no big deal, she bought what she wanted, we both do, and she worked hard for it. Who am I to say what she should spend her money on?” He was still feeling angry towards Moss so added “I know up north, men still control the finances and give the little woman her housekeeping once a week, but down here, were a bit more civilised.” He felt guilty as soon as the words had escaped his lips. “I’m sorry.” He lifted his hands off his knees in a sign of apology and said. “That was very rude of me, I shouldn’t have said that.”
Reid took over. “So nothing in her behaviour of late made you suspect she was involved with another man.”
“No, nothing at all. I just can’t fathom it. Who did you say he was, her Physiotherapist? But why, what could she possibly see in a man like that? I’ve never actually met him, but I can’t believe he’s anywhere close to her intellectual level.”
Back in the incident room where the interview was being played out on the large monitor, Carver turned to Goldberg. “That’s how he missed it.” Goldberg looked puzzled so he continued. “In his mind, their relationship was one of compatibility, a shared experience of life and their work. He knew everything about what she did, he was proud of her work, of her intellect.” He pointed to the picture of her on the wall, held in place with a magnet to the whiteboard. “Look at her. She’s worked so hard to keep herself in shape, she’s a highly attractive woman and he didn’t notice that about her, took it for granted or maybe he didn’t even think it was important. Along comes a younger man, someone who also keeps in shape and who sees her as an attractive, sexually desirable woman. I’m sure she truly loved her husband, but she needed more.”
Goldberg was nodding now. “What did Williams say?” He looked at his notes. “She said she would never leave him, would never hurt him. It makes sense. But could Williams cope with that?”
“That’s the question?” Carver agreed.
Back in the interview room, Brooks was now the one asking the questions, demanding to know more about their suspect and why they hadn’t charged him yet. After her third use of the phrase ‘I’m not at liberty to say’, Moss paused the interview. They asked Brooks to remain in the room accompanied by a young uniformed PC who happened to be walking down the corridor at the wrong time, and left him to come to terms with the unwelcome knowledge he now had about his wife.
The two detectives joined the rest of the team in the incident room shortly after Pramanik and Hughes. They were just explaining what they had learned from Williams’ medical records, which had arrived just before lunch.
“It seems he had a bout of depression after his wife died. Took it very badly.” Hughes filled in for them. “He was on anti-depressants for a while and piled on the weight. Seems he packed them in about three years ago and got back into shape. He did well.” She added looking at the photo on the board.
“How did the wife die?”
“Killed by a drunk driver on the A417. She was eight weeks pregnant apparently. The driver survived and got ten years for it. He was three times over the limit doing eighty miles per hour in a forty zone. He was paroled last year.”
“Sad.” agreed Moss, “You can see why he might take Helen’s dumping him badly. Anything in his finances of interest?”
Hughes looked down at her laptop screen, pressing a few keys. “Everything looks normal now, but the business suffered for a while after his wife died. It didn’t go under, but it was close. Everything has recovered now though. In fact it’s looking quite healthy.”
“So it’s unlikely he was trying to get Helen to move in with him to boost his bank balance?” Moss asked, looking up at the motive box on the whiteboard. “We can probably strike through his potential greed motive.” She noticed that the industrial espionage statement had three question marks next to it. “How did you get on with her boss?”
“Another very clever man.” started Carver, “It seems that her presentation was going to turn a few heads. Ordinarily I wouldn’t think it would be enough, but with the markets as they are at the moment, I don’t think we can rule it out yet.”
“I don’t think Brooks will let you either.” Reid added.
They all looked across at the FAGS board. Of the seventeen potential motives that they had started with, all but three had now been ruled out. The three that remained pointed towards different suspects, two known and sitting in separate interview rooms elsewhere in the station and one as yet un-known. Carver and Moss both thought they had the culprit already but did not agree on which one it was. Hunter was favouring the third option and Goldberg was backing him up.
After a while, when everyone had had their say, Carver stood. “Does anyone have anything else? I’m going to update the DCI.” Everyone shook their heads so he grabbed his laptop and left the room.
Chapter 12
The DCI’s office was on the top floor. It was a spacious room with a large modern desk at one end. It was connected to a meeting room table arranged to form a T shape down the length of the room. George Philpot was the same age as Carver and had joined the force at the same time, but the years spent at the higher rank had treated him better. He looked up from his desk terminal and stood as Carver tapped on the open door.
“Jeff, come in. How’s it going down there?”
Carver ignored the slight jibe, knowing it was unintentional and sat at the end of the meeting table. The DCI moved round his desk and sat with him.
Carver updated him on the latest interviews and the thinking within the team. After just a few minutes, Philpot leant forward towards his three-legged, state of the art desk-phone and hit one of the speed-dial keys.
After just two rings it was picked up and the
y were greeted by the eloquent voice of Harold Frazer, the region’s senior solicitor for the Crown Prosecution Service.
“Harold, it’s George Philpot here over at Gloucester CID. Hope I didn’t catch you on the fairway.”
“No, safely in the nineteenth, old boy.” The expensively educated voice replied.
Carver tensed slightly and reflected that perhaps being stuck as a DI had its compensations. Philpot had persuaded him to join him on the golf course once, but having assessed his limitations at the game, had not repeated the invitation. Carver could not say he was upset.
“We’ve made good progress on the Helen Brooks murder case. We wanted to talk to you about where we are. I’ve got Jeff Carver with me.” Despite the expensive conferencing phone, with its excellent microphone less than two feet from his lips, Philpot was still in the habit of yelling at the thing. Carver could imagine the CPS solicitor holding his mobile at least a foot from his ear to achieve a comfortable volume.
“Good afternoon Sir.” Carver said in his normal voice before updating the man. Frazer listened quietly asking only a few incisive questions while Carver laid out their thoughts and the evidence they had collected. He covered all the aspects including his chat with Dr Philips.
“I don’t think there is enough evidence to suggest a conspiracy theory Sir, especially when we weigh up the other evidence. In my opinion the affair is a much more compelling motive.”
DCI Philpot nodded enthusiastically. The last thing he needed was to have his officers chasing down phantoms, especially phantoms in high places. It all seemed way too unlikely to him anyway and he had warned Carver against pursuing it any further.