Isaac realised that he had pushed more than he should, but now there was a motive. It seemed weak in itself, but, if, as the woman had indicated, her father may not have ensured the handover of the bank to her, then she had a reason to want Amelia dead.
‘A devious woman,’ Wendy said on the drive back to London.
‘Capable of murder?’ Isaac asked.
‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.’
‘Was she scorned?’
‘She was, or she thought it was possible. Her husband is back on with Amelia; he’s screwing his PA, and whoever else. His wife collects possessions, men included. She does not give them away.’
‘She couldn’t have killed Amelia Brice and Christine Devon,’ Isaac said.
‘Nor could Quentin Waverley.’
‘Why not?’
‘He’s not a professional killer, we know that, but there’s a more important consideration.’
‘And that is?’
‘You’ve been to Christine Devon’s flat. What do you reckon?’
‘Unless he was good at disguise, he’d never get through.’
‘Even with a disguise, the area is a no-go for anyone white, unless they’re carrying a badge.’
‘Even the uniforms don’t go there unless they’re in threes.’
‘Which means?
‘Gwen or Quentin Waverley could have organised someone else to commit the murders.’
‘Either or both.’
‘They’ll do anything to protect their lives,’ Isaac said.
***
Gwen Waverley sat with her lawyer after Isaac and Wendy left. ‘Are you involved? he asked.
‘With murder? Why do you ask? You’ve known me since I was a child.’
‘That’s why I’m asking. I handle your father’s legal matters, as well.’
‘I’m not sorry that Amelia’s dead.’
‘That’s what I thought. Nor am I,’ Bamford said.
‘Why you? What’s it got to do with you?’
‘Your father paid me to make problems go away.’
‘What sort of problems?’
‘Any that could threaten him.’
‘Were there any?’
‘An influential man such as your father, what do you think?’
‘Over the years there must have been someone or other who got in the way, but murder? That’s something else.’
‘I can only advise if you level with me. Gwen, you’re your father’s daughter. You would have no problems with taking the appropriate action if you and your children were threatened, would you?’
‘No, but I did not kill Amelia.’
‘But you know who did?’
‘I know people who would have been capable.’
‘If you're innocent, then say no more for now. If you aren’t, then tell me, or if steps need to be taken to protect the truth, then I must know. My discretion is assured.’
Chapter 29
Quentin Waverley had been forewarned by Gwen about what had happened when she met DCI Cook. He had not expected the man to be in his office with his sergeant within hours of leaving his wife.
‘DCI Cook, I’m a busy man,’ Waverley said.
‘So are we. Your wife had told us facts that we never knew before. Facts which give you and your wife a motive.’
‘I knew about Gwen and Jeremy. It was before Gwen and me.’
‘Did you know at the time?’
‘I suspected something. Gwen confirmed it a few months back. She had lost her temper, started talking irrationally. She let it slip.’
‘Then why were you threatening Amelia?’
‘Amelia had met with Gwen in the pub sometime before. Their meeting didn’t go well, and Amelia accused Gwen of stealing her man and her father.’
‘Amelia knew from before?’
‘Even when I was with her, she knew, but she never told me. Amelia worshipped her father, although he didn’t always reciprocate, and I don’t think she ever approved of him and Gwen.’
‘What was your reaction when you found out?’
‘What do you think? My wife’s past life included sleeping with the father of my former girlfriend. I was shocked at first, then angry. I may have called Gwen a whore.’
‘May?’
‘I did. Not that she liked it, but that’s what she was, still is.’
‘It’s hardly the basis for a long-lasting marriage,’ Wendy said. She had seen the personal assistant outside, noticed that she was attractive and knew how to smile at her DCI, look down her nose at his sergeant. Wendy knew a tart when she saw one.
‘What do you want me to say? You’ve met Gwen, you met her father. Both of them were without shame. Her father, pretending to be a beacon of decency, allowing his daughter to cheapen herself by getting me in her bed.’
‘It takes two,’ Wendy said.
‘I know that, and I can’t say I’d act differently, even now.’
‘We know about you and your personal assistant.
‘Gwen?’
‘She told us.’
‘I’ve no intention of apologising for my actions. You’re here because of Amelia and the other woman, and besides, your opinion of me, good or bad, does not interest me. I’ve assumed the chairmanship of this bank, and I intend to succeed. Now, if you don’t have anything more to discuss, I’ll bid you goodbye.’
‘I’m sorry, Mr Waverley, but it doesn’t work like that. We can either discuss this here or down at Challis Street. The decision is yours.’
‘Ten minutes, that’s all I can give you.’
‘Do you want your lawyer to be present?’ Isaac asked.
‘No. I don’t intend to compromise myself, and you’ve no evidence against me.’
‘Should there be some?’
‘Get on with your questions, please,’ Waverley said. Isaac could see the man becoming annoyed.
‘We know now that you are the Q mentioned in Amelia’s diary. According to her, she was frightened of you, even considered ending her life because of it.’
‘Amelia had flights of fancy. You can’t believe all that she wrote.’
‘Unfortunately, Mr Waverley, we do. It is clear that Amelia, increasingly irrational, not necessarily because of you, was threatening to reveal the fact that your wife and Jeremy Brice had been sleeping together. And we know from your wife what your father-in-law’s reaction would have been. The man had some old-fashioned ideas, not that it stopped him keeping his mistress as his PA for all those years, even when his wife was ill.’
‘It’s not stopping you either, Mr Waverley,’ Wendy said.
‘As you say. I’ll not deny it, why should I?’
‘Mr Waverley, have you no shame? Your wife sleeps with Amelia’s father, you carry on a friendship with the man, even after you know, and then, on the one hand, you’re sleeping with Amelia, and on the other, you’re threatening her to keep quiet or else.’
‘You make it sound sordid,’ Waverley said.
‘It is sordid,’ Wendy said.
‘It may be according to your proletarian values, not ours,’ Waverley said. Isaac had wondered how long it would be before the personal insults started. Now he knew he had Waverley on the ropes.
‘Mr Waverley, I put it to you that you murdered Amelia and then you travelled the short distance to Christine Devon’s flat and killed her. How do you plead? Guilty?’
‘You’ve got it all wrong. Amelia liked Christine Devon; told the woman her life story. It was dynamite. Gwen, the daughter of George Happold, and Jeremy Brice in a love triangle with Brice’s daughter’s lover. There would have been a media frenzy. The Devon woman had no money; she could have sold the story. And if it were out in the open, George Happold would be forced to defend the honour of his daughter. It would have affected the value of the bank, confidence in the chairman would have been lost. It’s all to do with perception. Happold, he treasured his reputation, and now it was about to go south. Christine Devon was the key, not Amelia. If one died, they both
had to die.’
‘Christine Devon would never have told anyone. You killed her for no reason.’
‘I didn’t kill her.’
‘You’ve just confessed.’
‘No, I haven’t.’
‘Then what have you just said?’
‘I’ve told you what happened, but I’ve not told you who gave the instruction and who committed the crime.’
‘Mr Waverley, you’ve allowed us to question you here without a lawyer, knowing full well that you intended to tell us the truth. Will you allow your wife to be charged with murder? Was this your intention all along?’
‘It’s a hard world. George Happold taught me well, so did Gwen.’
The two police officers sat still for twenty seconds, allowing all that had been said to sink in.
In their careers, they had met rogues and villains of all shapes and colours, but none so deceitful and callous as the man who sat in front of them, a smug look on his face.
‘Was it all worth it?’ Isaac said.
‘Whatever happens, I will hold all of Gwen’s assets in trust for our children until they turn twenty-one. By that time, I will have brought this bank into the twenty-first century and made plenty of money for myself. I may even try for a peerage.
‘Mr Waverley, you are a despicable human being,’ Wendy said.
‘The truth belongs to the victor,’ Waverley said. ‘Your opinions of me count for little. And now, I’ll bid you goodbye.’
Outside the building, Isaac and Wendy sat on a bench. ‘The foulest man I’ve ever met,’ Wendy said.
‘I’d agree, and legally he’s not answerable for any crime, other than withholding evidence’ Isaac said.
‘What’s next?’
‘Gwen Waverley, and this time at Challis Street.’
***
Gwen Waverley arrived at Challis Street Police Station at seven in the evening. Bruce Bamford, her lawyer, was with her. Isaac and Wendy were to conduct the interview; Larry would listen in from the other room. Seth Caddick, somehow surviving the presentation at Scotland Yard, was with Larry.
Isaac went through the formalities. It was nearly 8 p.m. ‘Mrs Waverley, we have a clear statement from your husband that it was you who organised the murders of Amelia Brice and Christine Devon, with the sole purpose of preventing your affair with Jeremy Brice from becoming public knowledge.’
‘Quentin said that?’
‘He did. We will access all your phone records, bank statements.’
‘Are you charging my client?’ Bamford said.
‘Based on the statement from Quentin Waverley, we have enough to hold Mrs Waverley.’
‘Quentin, he finally wised up,’ Gwen said. ‘I thought he didn’t have it in him.’
‘Did you expect to get away with this?’ Wendy said.
‘Where’s the proof? I couldn’t have committed the murders, neither could Quentin.’
‘Based on your husband’s statement, there is a case to answer.’
‘DCI Cook, I request a break to confer with my client,’ Bamford said.
‘Twenty-five minutes. We’ll reconvene at 9 p.m. Is that acceptable?’
‘Yes. We will be ready.’
Isaac and Wendy went in the other room where Larry and Caddick were. ‘A conviction this time?’ the superintendent asked.
‘We’re hopeful,’ Isaac replied. He noticed that their senior was relaxed.
‘She didn’t kill the women,’ Larry said.
‘We know that, but her husband is willing to give evidence that she is behind the women’s murders.’
‘What kind of bastard would do that?’
‘The Waverley kind,’ Larry said. ‘They’re each as bad as the other.’
‘And you all thought I was,’ Caddick said. It was the first time that the man had spoken civilly to his Homicide team. Isaac didn’t like it, as if he was starting to feel comfortable, as if he was going to stay.
After the agreed period, Isaac and Wendy reentered the interview room.
‘My client has a statement,’ Bamford said.
‘Very well,’ Isaac said.
‘I, Gwen Waverley, wish to state that the accusations made by my husband are scurrilous and untrue, and I will defend myself against all charges. I did know about my husband and his ongoing relationship with Amelia Brice, and the threats levelled against her to not tell my father about my relationship with Jeremy Brice. My husband has subsequently found a loophole in my father’s will that will give him effective control of all my assets if I am convicted of a criminal offence. This is why he is making these accusations.
‘He is my husband. I love him. I do not understand why he is doing this. That is the end of my statement.’
Wendy could see that the woman had been crying, although she could feel no sadness for her.
‘DCI Cook, it’s husband against wife,’ Bamford said. ‘Whose word are you going to believe?’
‘Both are lying,’ Isaac said. ‘We have been conducting investigations into the financial dealings of both Quentin and Gwen Waverley. Certain anomalies need explaining. Mrs Waverley, you are innocent of the murders of Amelia Brice and Christine Devon.’
‘But…’
‘That does not, however, excuse you from the consequences of your actions. Two women have died because of you and your husband’s shameless greed. Unfortunately, you two will not be together for a very long period of time. Thirty minutes ago, your husband was arrested. We have proof that he paid for their deaths. You are free to go, and I hope that your conscience allows you to sleep, knowing full well that the father of your children will be in jail.’
***
Quentin Waverley sat in another interview room as his wife left the police station. Wendy watched her go and turned to Isaac. ‘There’s more hatred and greed in that woman than anyone we’ve ever dealt with.’
‘She will have a lifetime to reflect; a lifetime to figure out what to tell her children about their father.’
‘Let’s deal with the man now,’ Isaac said.
Larry stood in the room adjoining where the interview was to be conducted. Superintendent Caddick was not there. Larry assumed he was on the phone to Commissioner Davies, attempting to gain early credit for solving the murders.
‘Quentin Waverley, you will be formally charged on two counts with conspiracy to murder,’ Isaac said. Bamford remained in the police station, as Waverley and his wife used the same lawyer.
‘How, why?’
‘You were concerned, as was your wife, that George Happold would change his will, as well as prevent the handover of the bank, if it were revealed that his daughter was involved with Jeremy Brice. There was always the risk that if Christine Devon died, Amelia would speak to George Happold. It may be that your wife is complicit in this.’
‘Why did I tell you it was my wife?’
‘You knew that if she were tried, she’d be acquitted due to lack of evidence. And by then, time would have moved on, and the original investigation would be given to another team of police officers, and you’d be in the clear. However, you made one error.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Rasta Joe.’
‘Who’s he?’
‘He is a gang leader who was killed by Negril Bob and his people. He was killed for two reasons: one, he was friendly with Detective Inspector Larry Hill, and two, he had seen you and Negril Bob together. It has been a considered possibility for some time that Negril Bob was involved, but until he was arrested for kidnapping, nobody had been willing to tell us everything about him. It was one of Rasta Joe’s gang who identified you after we had arrested Negril Bob. Up until then, neither Rasta Joe nor his gang was willing to discuss Negril Bob, such was the fear of the man in the community.’
‘Negril Bob, who’s he?’
‘Negril Bob, his real name is Robert Gosling, is a known killer. He was a professional soldier, former SAS. We are not sure how you connected with him, but we know that you were seen with him on one occas
ion and we have evidence, recently unearthed, that a sum of two hundred thousand pounds was deposited into his account.’
‘It was Gwen’s idea,’ Waverley said. It was not the first time that Isaac had seen it. The link was not yet made, and would probably be difficult to make, but presented with unassailable facts, the guilty often admit to the crime, almost as if they are attending confession and asking for the priest’s blessing.
‘We will check, and your wife may have been capable, but it is you, Mr Waverley, who is guilty. We will require a full written confession, duly signed by yourself.’
‘You’d better do what he says,’ Bamford said.
Isaac turned to Larry. ‘Arrange for Negril Bob to be brought to Challis Street. We need to charge him with the murders of Amelia Brice and Christine Devon.’
Isaac left the interview room and made some phone calls. The first he made was to Charisa Devon, the second to her brother, the third to Richard Goddard, the fourth to Superintendent Caddick. The fifth, the most important to him that day, to Ann, the PA of Phillip Loeb. This weekend he was free, and he intended to book a hotel close to Brighton; he knew she’d come.
The End.
ALSO BY THE AUTHOR
Death in the Village – A DI Tremayne Thriller
Nobody liked Gloria Wiggins, a woman who regarded anyone who did not acquiesce to her jaundiced view of the world with disdain. James Baxter, the previous vicar, had been one of those, and her scurrilous outburst in the church one Sunday had hastened his death.
And now, years later, the woman was dead, hanging from a beam in her garage. Detective Inspector Tremayne and Sergeant Clare Yarwood had seen the body, interviewed the woman’s acquaintances, and those who had hated her.
Buy here: Amazon.
Death by a Dead Man’s Hand – A DI Tremayne Thriller
A flawed heist of forty gold bars from a security van late at night. One of the perpetrators is killed by his brother as they argue over what they have stolen.
Eighteen years later, the murderer, released after serving his sentence for his brother’s murder, waits in a church for a man purporting to be the brother he killed.
DCI Isaac Cook Box Set 1 Page 146