The Corfe Castle Murders (Dorset Crime Book 1)

by Rachel McLean

  “You thought I couldn’t do my job,” she said. “You thought I couldn’t manage the team.”

  “I won’t lie to you, boss. There was a bit of that, too. But you have to understand, we don’t often get a case like this. We need to make sure it’s done properly.”

  She ground her fist into the top of the table. “Properly? Properly is my middle bloody name. I make sure everything’s done properly. If you knew what I’d found out tonight and I have to deal with tomorrow…”

  “The weapon?” he said.

  She raised an eyebrow. “You know?”

  He nodded. “PC Abbott came back into the office after you’d left, with her tail between her legs. She looks like she’s expecting to get sacked tomorrow.”

  Lesley laughed. “The Federation would have me strung up if I tried that. And besides, she uncovered a vital piece of evidence. OK, so she didn’t do it by the book. But if she hadn’t, we’d still be running around without anything to go on.”

  He nodded. “CPS won’t be able to use it, though.”

  “That’s not the important thing,” she said. “If that weapon tells us who killed Archie and Laila, then we know where to look for something we can use.”

  “Crystal,” he said.

  “Or Patrick,” she replied.

  “Fair enough.” He stood up. “I need to get home. Pam, my wife, she’s waiting for me.”

  She shrugged. “You go home, enjoy your evening.” She wanted to be jealous of him. But the truth was, she was glad she wasn’t going home to domestic mundanity. It had been years since she’d enjoyed that sort of thing.

  “Boss.” He looked relived.

  “And thanks,” she said. “This took guts.”

  He nodded. She grabbed his arm as he turned away.

  “Next time you’ve got a problem, you come to me though, eh?”

  “Boss.”

  As Dennis left the pub, Elsa slid over to the table, taking his seat. She set a gin and tonic down in front of Lesley.

  “I took the liberty,” she said.

  Lesley grabbed it. “Thanks, this is more me.”

  Elsa cocked her head. She had a dimple in her left cheek, and it deepened when she smiled. “Thought as much. You need help with your man problems?”

  “I certainly bloody do. My husband’s filing for divorce, and he’s the one who’s sleeping with another woman.”

  “Well, you’re fine then,” said Elsa. “Adultery.”

  “He says he’s already filed,” Lesley said. “Claiming unreasonable behaviour. Apparently I work too much.”

  Elsa laughed. “You’re a detective, of course you work too much.”

  “He’s an academic,” Lesley replied. “God, I’m sick of academics at the moment.”

  She slumped into her chair and took a swig of her gin and tonic. It felt good to drink something cool and refreshing after the heat of the whisky.

  “You can’t help me,” she said. “You’re a criminal lawyer.”

  “But I’ve got plenty of friends who are family lawyers,” Elsa replied. “You want me to make a call?”

  Lesley nodded. Back in Birmingham, she’d have had half a dozen people she could call. She would have run rings around Terry.

  But here she felt untethered. She had nobody she could lean on. Maybe Elsa would be that person?

  “Yes, please,” she said. “And get yourself a drink while you’re at it.”

  Chapter Sixty

  Susan listened to her mother-in-law talking to the undertaker and wished she’d refused the woman’s offer to come with her. Archie’s body was about to be released and it needed somewhere to go.

  Undertakers weren’t something Susan knew anything about. So when Rowena had turned up, insisting that she could handle all this, Susan had acquiesced.

  Millie was at home with Fiona. Susan wondered what Fiona’s employers thought about her taking so much time off work. And what was Fiona’s husband doing while she was looking after her?

  Susan needed to open her eyes and take a look at the people around her. She wasn’t the only one affected by Archie’s death. The woman sitting next to her, as much as Susan disliked her, had lost her son.

  How many people would be at his funeral? His colleagues, friends. She felt her stomach lurch: former lovers? Would Crystal Spiers have the audacity to turn up?

  “Mrs Weatherton?”

  Susan realised the undertaker wasn’t talking to her mother-in-law anymore, but to her.

  She blinked. “Sorry, I was miles away.”

  The undertaker smiled. She was a plump blonde woman in her mid thirties, who wore too much makeup and had a mustn’t smile properly, we’re grieving smile.

  Susan swallowed. “Sorry. What is it?”

  “We just need you to sign this form,’’ the woman said.

  Next to her, Rowena jabbed at a sheet of paper with a sharp pink fingernail.

  Susan frowned. “What’s it for?”

  “It’s a contract for our services.”

  Susan blinked back at the woman. How long had she been sitting here, not listening? They’d agreed all the details of Archie’s funeral. The coffin, the hearse, the mourners’ car, everything. It had all washed over her.

  She should be a part of this, not just a willing bystander. But all she wanted to do now was put it all behind her. Get the funeral over with. Get on with grieving her dead husband. Start life with a new, living, one.

  There would have to be a transition period, of course. Millie would need to get used to Tony, and if Susan was honest with herself, she did too. A week ago she’d been anxious to start her new life. But now she was a widow.

  Susan shuddered at the word. God, a widow. It made her think of elderly women dressed in black, wide-brimmed hats and lacy veils. Queen Victoria, spending most of her life mourning Prince Albert.

  That wasn’t Susan. She wanted to live.

  She nodded. “Sorry.” Miles away, again.

  She picked up the pen next to the contract and signed. She had no idea what she was agreeing to. But Rowena had lost her son. She didn’t know her daughter-in-law was about to start a new life with another man. She didn’t know her son had slept with dozens of women while he was married. She didn’t need to know.

  The undertaker gave her that smile again. She was being dismissed.

  She followed her mother-in-law out of the building. They’d come in separate cars.

  “You’ll be alright on your own?” Rowena asked her.

  Susan wondered if she should ask her the same thing.

  “I’ll be fine, I’ve got Fiona. Have you…?”

  Rowena shrugged. “I’m used to being alone.”

  Susan felt a pang of guilt. She’d never got along with her mother-in-law, never sought out the woman’s company. With Archie away so much, there had been little reason. High days and holidays, Millie’s birthdays, Christmas.

  She took a step towards her mother-in-law, and gave her a tentative hug, something she’d never done before. Something she might start doing now.

  “Thank you for coming with me,” she said. She meant it.

  Rowena returned the hug, gave her a tight smile and walked to her car on clicking heels. Susan slid into her own car, feeling relief wash over her. At least that was done. All she needed to do now was get through the days before the funeral. Get through the funeral itself, and then decide what happened next.

  She grabbed her phone and dialled: voicemail. It wasn’t like him not to pick up.

  “Tony, it’s me. I’ve been to the undertakers with my mother-in-law. Call me, will you?”

  This was the third message she’d left him this morning.

  Had her becoming a widow scared him off? Did he prefer her when she was unattainable, when she couldn’t commit?

  She shook her head. Don’t be stupid. He’d proposed to her only two weeks ago. They were planning to start a life together. She took a shaky breath and clutched her wrist, checking her pulse. Racing.

  S
he turned the key in the ignition, and headed for home.

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Tina Abbott was already in Lesley’s office when she arrived the next morning. Lesley walked around her to reach her desk. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the PC waiting in here for her.

  “Tina,” she said as she sat down. “What can I do for you?”

  Tina stood in front of the desk. Lesley didn’t ask her to take a seat. She sensed that the younger woman felt more comfortable making this as uncomfortable as possible.

  “I just wanted to say I’m sorry, Ma’am.”

  Lesley eyed her. “What for?”

  Tina straightened. “Searching the shed yesterday, at the cottage.”

  Lesley leaned back in her chair.

  She was hungry. She’d ferreted a stash of yoghurts away in her bag, they’d make a tolerable breakfast. She still hadn’t found the fridge. In West Midlands, eating at her desk had been the norm. She’d sat through briefings grabbing the opportunity to refuel, and her colleagues were used to her snacking on chocolate bars, yoghurts and Pot Noodles.

  But here, she hadn’t seen anybody eat at their desk. They took lunch breaks, for God’s sake.

  She sighed. “Well, I guess there are two ways to look at it, Constable. Sit down.”

  Tina eased herself into a chair and pulled her feet underneath her. She sat straight, her body language stiff.

  Lesley leaned across the desk. She counted on her fingers. “So first up, there’s what you did. You snuck around behind the backs of the people that you were appointed FLO for. I did tell you to keep an eye on them. I did tell you to watch them. I didn’t tell you to start searching the house.”

  “I’m sorry, Ma’am. I—”

  Lesley nodded. “Was the shed door open?”

  “It wasn’t locked, Ma’am.”

  “No?”

  “The padlock was loose, it was hanging off its bolt.”

  “That helps.”

  Lesley raised her second finger. “Secondly, you uncovered the murder weapon. Gail and her team had already been in there and they hadn’t found it. Which means someone put it there after they searched. Figured that hiding it in plain sight would be the best way to go.” She cocked her head. “If you hadn’t gone back in there, we’d never have found it.”

  Tina relaxed a little.

  “But I can’t say that to the CPS,” Lesley said.

  Tina stiffened. “I really am sorry, Ma’am.”

  “Stop apologising, Constable. On balance, you did a good thing. Have we heard from Gail about fingerprints or DNA on that axe?”

  Tina shrugged. “Not sure, Ma’am.”

  Lesley saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She looked past Tina to see Gail passing Dennis’s desk. He turned to speak to her, but she ignored him, heading straight for Lesley’s door.

  “Looks like we’re about to find out,” she told PC Abbott.

  PC Abbott stood as Gail entered. She shuffled away from the desk.

  Lesley sighed. Tina needed a stronger backbone. She showed promise, but needed to stand up for herself.

  Gail threw the door open, not pausing to knock. “I’ve got it.”

  “Got what?” Lesley asked.

  Dennis and the two DC’s crowded in behind Gail, almost shoving her into the room in their haste.

  “What you got then, Gail?” Johnny asked.

  Lesley gave him a shush look.

  Gail approached Lesley’s desk. She placed down a printout. “The hammer’s been wiped,” she said. “No prints, nothing at all.”

  “But…” said Lesley.

  “There’s a small amount of blood on it. It doesn’t match Laila or Archie.”

  Lesley blew out a breath. “Now we’re talking. Do you know whose blood it is?”

  “Not yet,” said Gail. “But it’s already at the lab. I’ll update you as soon as we’ve got a match.”

  Lesley looked at Dennis. “Have we taken DNA swabs from Patrick and Crystal?”

  He nodded. “CSIs took them when they searched the house.”

  “Good,” Lesley replied. “I want to know the moment that result comes back.”

  “Of course,” said Gail.

  Mike stepped forward. “I’ve got some more information on the finances, boss.”

  “OK.” Lesley lifted herself out of her chair and rounded the desk. She perched against its edge. “Make yourself comfortable, everyone. Let’s hear this, Mike.”

  He went to the board. He wrote University of Bristol and University of Bournemouth, then drew a line between the two and from those to Crystal Spiers and Archie Weatherton’s names.

  “I’ve spoken to Tony Goodall,” he said. “And to Archie Weatherton’s boss at Bristol University. It looks like someone was embezzling money.”

  “From Bristol?” Lesley said.

  “Possibly,” he said. “Possibly from Bournemouth. They seem to have had a joint budget for the project. Both universities contributed and money came in from external sources as well.”

  “The administrator at Bournemouth said everything was in order,” Dennis said.

  Mike turned to him. “That’s not what Tony Goodall reckons. He’s been gathering evidence that a member of that team was not only embezzling money, but also falsifying records and submitting inaccurate returns to the admin team.”

  “Do we have any idea who this person is?” asked Lesley.

  “DI Goodall isn’t a hundred per cent certain yet,” Mike said. “But he’s working on it being Crystal Spiers. After all, it was her job to manage the budget.”

  “Archie had a role in it, too,” Dennis said. “He was seeking funding, attending meetings.”

  “Only because there wasn’t enough money,” Mike said. “Tim Sidhu told us there was plenty of cash. But if Archie thought the budget was short, there’s only one person who would have told him that, and that’s Crystal Spiers. She was telling him they were short of cash and getting him to raise money from other sources. But at the same time, she was receiving money from Bournemouth University and Bristol too.”

  “And creaming it off for herself,” Lesley added.

  Mike nodded. “Tony Goodall’s requested access to her bank accounts. The link with this murder case is what he reckons will get him a warrant.”

  Lesley chewed her nail. “Keep working on that. I want to know as soon as you find concrete evidence that Crystal was cooking the books.”

  “Boss?” Dennis raised a hand.

  Lesley eyed him. “How many times do I have to tell you, Dennis?”

  “Sorry, boss. Anyway, I checked the system. Patrick Donnelly…”

  “What about him?”

  “He doesn’t have any convictions, but he was arrested for sexual assault twelve years ago.”

  “Where?” Lesley said.

  “Dublin.”

  “Which is why we didn’t know about it.”

  “I went back to find he’d worked at the university there. He was accused of assault by a student, but she dropped it before it went to court.”

  “Good work,” said Lesley. “So we know he’s got form.”

  “That doesn’t mean he’d go so far as to kill somebody,” Dennis said.

  “Still,” said Gail. “He was pretty pissed off with Laila after he assaulted her, and she managed to get away. Maybe he took that out on Archie, and then on her. Who knows what a man does when he gets jealous?”

  Dennis gave Gail a look. She folded her arms across her chest and cocked her head, as if in challenge.

  “OK,” said Lesley. “So this makes it more credible that Patrick assaulted Laila. That doesn’t necessarily give him motive to kill her, or to kill Archie. But with Crystal, we’ve got this embezzling. What if Archie found out, and she wanted to shut him up?”

  “That doesn’t explain Laila, though,” said Johnny. “She was a junior member of the dig team, she was brought in just a few weeks ago. She wouldn’t have known about the finances.”

  “She was s
leeping with Archie,” said Mike. “Pillow talk.”

  “Good point,” said Lesley. “Put it on the board.”

  Mike wrote embezzlement and fraud on the board. He linked those words to Tony Goodall’s name as well as to Crystal’s, with a question mark.

  Lesley looked at his notes. “I’m concerned about the link between DI Goodall and Archie Weatherton. On the one hand, we’ve got him investigating Crystal Spiers. Who years ago had an affair with the husband of the woman that he’s now having an affair with. I want to speak to his boss in Bristol. Dennis, get me some contact details.”

  “Boss.”

  Tina was standing at the back, shifting from foot to foot. “What about the weapon?”

  “It’s not much use to us,” muttered Dennis. “Not with the way it was found.”

  “It’s a whole lot of use to us,” Lesley said.

  He stared at her. “If PC Abbott had just followed procedure—”

  Lesley thumped the desk to stop him. “Now is not the place to discuss ifs and buts and might have been’s. We have the weapon, we’ll make use of it.”

  He grunted.

  “The lab’s already on it,” said Gail. She checked her phone. “Nothing yet.”

  “Keep tugging at those threads.” Lesley gave Dennis a look. “All of them. I want to know as soon as we get anything more.”

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  The team filed out of Lesley’s office.

  “Not you, Dennis,” she said as he made for the door.

  “Boss?”

  “Just a quick chat.”

  “Certainly.”

  He exchanged glances with Johnny, who shuffled to the door. When the others had left, Dennis closed the door and approached Lesley’s desk.

  “Boss? I already apologised…”

  She shook her head. “I think we should just forget that ever happened, don’t you?”

  He smiled. “Thanks. What did the Super say?”