by A L Fraine
“Sure can,” Jon replied, wondering if he’d misjudged the kindly old man they’d met in the hospital. Had he done that? Had he killed Kathlyn?
“The official finding, however, concluded that it was suicide.”
“Okay,” Jon replied. “I agree, that’s suspicious. Can you find some time to have a closer look at that case for me?”
“Of course,” Nathan replied.
“Kathlyn,” Dion said, looking deep in thought. After a moment, he looked up. “Do you think the diary we found is hers?”
“Kath’s diary,” Jon stated, remembering the embossing on the front. “Seems likely.”
“It does,” Dion agreed.
“Do some cross-referencing, confirm it if you can.”
“Will do,” Dion replied.
“Anything on Pan?” Jon asked Nathan.
“There were a few hits on the database, but nothing that really fit. So no.”
“Okay, well keep looking.”
“Will do. We found out a little more about Lizzy too,” Nathan spoke up. “It turns out, she once reported being raped, but the case never seemed to go anywhere, and the man she accused got away with it.”
“Jesus,” Kate whispered.
“Who was this rapist?” Jon asked.
“His name’s Philip, but he’s in prison. Has been for a while and hasn’t shown any noticeable interest in Lizzy since.”
“Okay, I’d still like to be sure about that, though. Can you check?”
“I will, sure,” Nathan replied. “Apart from that, though, she’s had a few minor traffic violations, and she’s been involved in several cases as a private investigator, but nothing really of note to this case. She was well-liked by the officers she worked with on those cases, too.”
“Okay, good work. Thanks,” Jon replied and looked over at Kate. “I think we need to get back to the house.”
14
“Is it strange that Harold didn’t mention that his second wife was killed?” Kate asked as Jon drove towards the Lockwood estate through morning traffic.
Jon frowned, thinking it through. “When did she die?”
“Nineteen seventy-nine,” Kate answered.
“Well, that’s what? Forty-odd years ago? That’s a long time, and it sounds like their relationship was deteriorating from what Nathan was saying.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Kate replied, screwing her face up. “I just think that given this is the violent death of a close family member, that he might have mentioned it when we spoke to him.”
“I’m not so sure. Lizzy’s was a murder, which is a very different thing to suicide.”
“Yeah, perhaps.”
“Fox is doing some digging through, so if there’s anything for us to look into, I’m sure he’ll find it,” Jon replied, confident in Nathan’s abilities.
“This family, it’s just skeleton after skeleton in their closet.”
Jon nodded, feeling the same, but he was also sure they weren’t finished finding dark secrets yet. He wasn’t sure which, if any, of what they’d discovered so far would tie into the case yet, but he knew he needed to keep an open mind and consider every angle on this.
They soon pulled up into the Lockwood estate, coming to a stop in the courtyard, surrounded once more by the ranks of cars belonging to the family members.
“If Dion can figure out which cars didn’t leave the property the night of the murder, then we can narrow it down a little more,” Jon suggested, looking out at the fleet of vehicles.
“It might help, but that’s not proof of anything. A clever murderer would steal the keys of the car they wanted to use, and frame the owner.”
“Yeah, you’re not wrong,” Jon admitted as he got out and cast his eyes over the cars. “It could be any of them.”
“Did Portia say she heard a second car?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Jon replied.
“Might that not suggest the Tesla, then? An electric car would be quiet.”
Shifting his eyes over to the vehicle, he nodded. “That would fit. It might mean that Lizzy wouldn’t hear the car arrive at Silent Pool, either.”
“Yep,” Kate agreed. “So who had access to it?”
“And who owns it?” Jon added as he started to make his way towards the main entrance. As they approached, a man stepped out from the shadows of the porch and approached. It was Lizzy’s father.
“Hey,” Piers said as he stepped up to them.
“Mr Lockwood. How are you bearing up?” Jon greeted him.
“I’m… coping, I suppose. It’s hard, I swing back and forth a bit, you know?”
“How’s Ingrid?” Kate asked.
“She cries a lot, but Faith, um, PC Evanson, has been great,” Piers replied, referring to the SIU’s Family Liaison Officer. “Thanks for sending her to see us.”
Jon nodded. “My pleasure. I’m glad she could be of service. She’ll be over again today.”
Piers nodded but seemed a little uncomfortable as he shifted from foot to foot, as if he needed the toilet.
“Is everything okay, Mr Lockwood?” Jon asked.
“Look, can we talk, privately?”
“Of course.” Jon nodded. “In fact, I was thinking that I needed to take a walk around the garden, so why don’t you come with us?”
“Okay, sounds good,” Piers replied and fell into step beside them as Jon set off. “What are you looking for?”
“I wanted to take a look at the side driveway,” Jon replied, watching Piers’ face for any tells that he might let slip, but he didn’t notice anything.
“Uh, why?” Piers asked.
“Just checking every eventuality,” Jon replied.
“You think the killer used the side entrance?”
“It’s a possibility,” Jon replied as they walked past the house, away from the courtyard and out towards a gravel and dirt track that led off into a lightly wooded area. Jon stopped and took a closer look at the tracks in the mud. “Who uses this driveway?”
“I think we all do from time to time. It gets used most days. The cleaners come in this way every day, the gardener too.”
Jon nodded. It explained the crisscrossing tracks made by several different cars recently. Jon pulled his phone and started to take photos of all the tracks he could. It might not prove anything, but it was worth being thorough.
“Whose car is the Tesla?” he asked as he worked.
“Um, I think that’s Dad’s car.”
“Howard’s?” Jon asked.
“That’s right.”
“And, who drives it?”
“Dad. Mum, um, I’ve driven it before. I think we’ve all had a go. It’s a fun car.”
“Quiet, too. Right?”
“Very,” Piers admitted. He paused for a moment, and then his eyes bugged. “Oh, you think…!”
“What did you want to talk about, Mr Lockwood?” Jon said, changing the subject. He took one last look at the tyre tracks before slipping his phone away and walking back towards Piers and Kate.
“The case,” he replied. “How’s it going?”
Jon regarded him for a moment. He didn’t believe for one second that this was the reason he’d intercepted them. No, there was something more here, but he wasn’t sure what it was. He’d seen this kind of thing before from people, though, and guessed that Piers just needed time to work up to it.
Jon set off across the grass with a shrug, ambling slowly through the morning mist with Kate beside him and Piers in tow. It could almost be romantic if it wasn’t for the grieving father and the looming spectre of murder. He glanced at Kate, who returned the look with a wiggle of her eyebrows and a smile.
“It’s going well, thanks,” Jon said finally. “I can’t really say much, but we’re following up several leads, and we’re hopeful that we’ll find the culprit.”
Piers nodded. “Good. That’s good.”
Jon nodded and waited, hoping that Piers would pluck up the courage to say what he’d come out to say. It to
ok a little under a minute before Piers spoke again.
“Spencer tried to blackmail me,” he said, sounding a little breathless.
Jon stopped and turned to face Piers. “Blackmail?”
He nodded. “The day of the party, he got me alone and…” Piers sighed and stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets before immediately removing them again and crossing his arms.
“What did he try to blackmail you with?”
“It’s um… It’s delicate, and…”
“Is it personal?”
“Yeah,” Piers answered. “Ingrid can’t know.”
“If it’s relevant to the case, she’s probably going to find out, Mr Lockwood.”
He sighed again, deeper this time as he tried to calm his nerves. “I know. I know. I just, I don’t want to hurt her.”
“I understand,” Jon replied. “I can’t guarantee anything, though.”
“I know.”
Again, Jon waited as Piers continued to shift from foot to foot and fidget.
“Alright, alright, so… I’ve been seeing someone.”
“A woman?” Jon asked.
“Yeah. Um, well, more than one.”
“You’ve been having affairs, Mr Lockwood?” Kate asked.
“I have,” he replied, his cheeks flushing.
“And Spencer knew?” Jon continued.
Piers nodded again. “He had photos, lots of photos of me with some of the girls. He showed them to me. He said he wanted money, lots of money. He said he’d show the pictures to Ingrid if I didn’t give him what he wanted.”
“I see,” Jon replied, narrowing his eyes. This was another strike against Spencer, and showed Jon just who Piers’ brother really was. But, it didn’t contradict the alibi that Spencer had. It was a cast-iron one that would take some serious disproving. “And how did you react?”
“I was angry,” Piers admitted. “I probably said some things, you know?”
“I understand.”
“How can he do that to me? My own brother? It’s madness. He must really be in deep with whoever it is he works with, if he’s willing to do that for money. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.”
“How was it left?”
“He told me to think about it, and he just walked off.”
“And that was it? He’s not said anything else?”
“No, nothing. That’s all he said. But it has to be him, right? I mean, if Lizzy knew what Spencer was doing, if she knew things about him, who knows what he’d do to her.”
“I’ll bear that in mind,” Jon replied and then frowned at the man. “Spencer claims to have seen you on the night of your daughter's murder, at about one-twenty am, downstairs. Is that right?”
“Oh, yeah. He did. I’d forgotten about that,” he replied, frozen to the spot for a moment, before he slowly shifted back to his nervous state. “Yeah, something woke me. I’m not sure what it was but, but I woke up thirsty, so I went downstairs to get a drink. Spencer saw me.”
“Why didn’t you mention this before?”
“I… I don’t know. I forgot, I think. Look, I just don’t want Ingrid to find this all out, you know?”
“I understand,” Jon replied with a sigh. It was as if Piers was more concerned with his affairs than with finding the killer. He took one last long look at Piers, and then nodded and made for the house. “Is that the kitchen door there?”
“Um, what? That one? Yeah, that goes into the utility and then the kitchen.”
“Is it unlocked?”
“Should be,” Piers replied, rushing to keep up with Jon’s long stride. As he approached the house, he scanned the walls, looking for security cameras. He didn’t need to look for too long, and it was abundantly clear that this side door was not covered by the surveillance they had in place. Not only that, it was a straight shot from there to the estate's side exit. Someone could leave the house, get in a car parked on this side, and leave via the side exit, all without being caught in any meaningful way by the security cameras. Jon grimaced at the oversight and continued on inside, walking in through the utility.
As he did so, he turned and looked back. “Where do your parents keep the house and car keys?”
“On the key rack, in the kitchen,” he replied. They have their own, though, so they wouldn’t use the spare ones.”
“But anyone could take a car key and drive off, right?” Kate asked.
“I guess,” Piers answered.
Jon glanced at Kate, who gave him a similarly incredulous look in return.
“Thank you, Mr Lockwood,” Jon said. He moved into the kitchen, where Jon stopped and looked around at the countertops and the utensils on display. Above the oven, a magnetic strip held a row of knives as if displaying them for the room.
Peering at them, Jon walked over and got a closer look, making sure his suspicions were correct. Satisfied, he turned to look at Piers again as he pointed to the knives. “What’s wrong with this?”
“Err, I don’t know…” Piers admitted.
“Look here.” Jon pointed to where there was a jump in size from one knife to the next. There were five knives up there, each slightly bigger than the one before, except there was a bigger than normal jump from knife three, to knife four. As if one was missing.
Jon held up the photo from the knife found at the murder scene, which he’d had in his pocket. It was an exact match to the set.
“This was found with Lizzy,” he stated, watching as Piers’ eyes tick-tocked between the photo and the knives on display, his mouth wide in shock.
“Oh, shit,” Piers gasped.
15
Piers walked out of the kitchen. He glanced back as he went, the shock of the stolen knife still evident on his face.
Jon couldn’t help but look at him and wonder how much he wanted to keep his affair a secret. It made him a suspect, and Piers knew it, which was probably why he’d been reluctant to admit it.
“So this pretty much confirms that the killer is in the house,” Kate suggested, pointing to the knife rack.
Jon nodded, agreeing with her deduction. “Someone took that knife with the intention of hurting and probably killing Lizzy,” he replied, keeping his voice low as they spoke. “And that person is here, in this house, somewhere.”
“We’ve just got to find him,” Kate agreed, looking out towards the main hall. “Do you think Piers is a suspect?”
“He has something to hide,” Jon replied.
“That’s just an affair though. Would he kill his own daughter over an affair?”
“Just because you or I wouldn’t, doesn’t mean no one would. Also, if he lied about that, what else is he lying about?”
“I know,” Kate nodded. “I suppose I’m just trying to see the good in people.”
“An admirable trait,” Jon admitted.
“And one that could get me into trouble, right? That’s what you’re going to say, isn’t it, Mr Paranoid?”
Jon smirked. “I don’t know about that, but I know I often look for the bad in people before the good.”
“You know what? That explains soooo much about you,” Kate replied with a raised eyebrow and a smile.
Jon returned her smile. “I’m glad I amuse you.”
“Endlessly, Mr Tea Nazi, Gravy Boy.”
“Doesn’t quite roll off the tongue, like Barry does.”
Kate stuck her tongue out at him. “So now what?”
Jon sighed as he took one more look at the sheet of paper with the photo of the knife on it. “I guess we ask some more questions and see what shakes loose.”
“Good morning, Detectives,” Veronica said, striding into the kitchen with a smile on her face. “Might I get you a drink? A coffee, perhaps? Tea?”
“Actually, that would be nice, thanks,” Jon remarked. “Kate?”
“Sure, why not.”
“More interviews today?” Veronica asked.
“Of course,” Jon replied.
“Feel free to use the morning room again,
” she offered.
“Thank you.”
“So, how was Harold? Vivian said he was okay when she left him earlier in the day.”
“He’s well,” Jon replied. “He spoke quite happily to us. He seemed a little tired, maybe, but that’s all. He’s a strong one.”
Veronica nodded and smiled. “He’s always been tough. Stubborn, too. It served him well during his business years and got this family to where it is today. We owe him a lot.”
“It must be sad then, knowing that he’s so ill?”
“It is, yes. For Howard, especially, I think. He’ll be missed when he goes.”
“I’m sure,” Jon replied, understanding how much losing someone could hurt, especially someone close.
“Did it all go well yesterday, then?” Veronica pressed. “Did you get what you wanted?”
“Well enough,” Jon replied.
“Mmm,” Veronica answered and turned away, busying herself with the drinks, before eventually turning back to him. “I didn’t want to say anything, and I know that you’re just doing your job, but those forensics operators were a little bit invasive.”
“Invasive?”
“I know how that sounds, and I know they have a job to do, an important one, but they were going through drawers and all sorts. They made a right mess with that fingerprint dust too.”
“Aaah,” Jon replied, understanding what she was talking about. He knew from personal experience what it was like having them in your home, rummaging around and taking information.
“I’m sorry if they seemed that way,” Jon replied, “but they have a job to do, so…”
“I understand, and I made sure not to get in their way, told everyone else the same thing too.”
“Thank you,” Jon replied. “I appreciate that.”
“I don’t know if anyone did get in their way. Sorry if there was any friction.”
“I’ve not heard of any.”
“Good. Well, I hope today goes well for you,” she said and poured the milk into the mugs first, much to Jon’s horror. He glanced up at Kate, who smiled at him, having noticed the same thing.
He smiled sweetly at Veronica as she turned and gave them their drinks. There was no need to let her know she had basically revealed herself as evil incarnate by making tea.