Detective Sophie Allen Box Set 2

by MICHAEL HAMBLING

  They left when the surgical procedures got under way. For some reason that she couldn’t fathom, Sophie had a total abhorrence of scalpels, particularly seeing them cut through skin. She’d fainted at the very first autopsy she’d attended as a young detective. She hoped that her fear hadn’t been inherited by her younger daughter, Jade, presently preparing her application to study medicine at university.

  ‘Barry, we need to make another attempt to get Rod to remember what his parents told him about that funeral, especially now we have this new information Rae’s discovered. It would be useful to know whether they recognised anyone there, particularly this councillor. But we can’t afford to push him too hard. Can you see him again? Maybe a few gentle nudges might unlock some memories.’

  * * *

  The Armitage son was just leaving his flat. He was wearing an olive green waterproof jacket and walking boots caked in dirt.

  ‘Going out for a breath of air. I need to get my head straight. I was going to walk along the river bank.’

  ‘Can I come with you?’ Marsh asked. ‘There’s a few questions I need to ask. Nothing too serious, though. Maybe walking might help you remember. Do you often go out for walks?’

  ‘Not recent-like, but I used to years ago. Sometimes me and Sharon used to walk when we were kids. Down by the river, through the woods, that kind of thing.’ He sighed. ‘I’ve got to get myself together. Losing Mum and Dad shook me up, even if Sharon doesn’t think so. Maybe it didn’t show, but I felt it. Then Pete sacking me. I kind of thought, can I go on like this? It’s kind of like reaching a point where something’s gotta change, or I’m just gonna sink lower. I’ve gone all week without any junk or booze, and things ain’t so fuzzy now. Being out helps a bit.’

  They reached the nearby riverside path and started to walk beside the flowing water.

  ‘I came to see if your parents might have mentioned anything about that funeral, Rod. You know, the one they went into by mistake. We wonder if it might be linked to their deaths, that they saw something or someone. Maybe they didn’t realise what or who it was, but someone else did. So far we just know that they told you about it that same night. While you were across having a meal with them, maybe?’

  Rod looked at him. ‘Sounds as if you already know more about it than me. How d’you know I was across to eat?’

  ‘I don’t. It was only a suggestion. You told us that you went across most weeks, so I was just guessing.’

  ‘Prob’ly right. Mum used to feed me up. Said she thought I guzzled too many pizzas and burgers.’

  ‘If it helps, that day was really warm, Rod. For late April, I mean. There hadn’t been a cloud in the sky.’

  Rod’s expression cleared. ‘Oh God, yeah. I remember now. Dad moaned about all the time he’d wasted being at the funeral when he could have been in his precious garden. It really pissed me off. He was a slave to that garden. Bloody stupid. Then he moaned ’cause Mum had only done oven chips. She usually got the chip pan out and did them proper like, but she wasn’t feeling well. It was the funeral that did it. She had a bad headache. What is it? Flashing lights and stuff?’

  ‘A migraine?’

  ‘That’s it. She had a migraine, but she still had to do food for us. She was a bit of a martyr was Mum. If she’d phoned and told me, I’d have gone a few days later, or got fish and chips on my way over.’

  Marsh waited.

  ‘She said they arrived at the funeral early and had to hang about a bit. Then a coffin arrived and they followed the people inside, but they twigged it was the wrong service. Mum got stressed over it.’

  ‘Anything else?’

  Rod shook his head. ‘That was it. They went back out and waited. People started to arrive for the next funeral, the one they should have been at. That’s what Mum said.’

  ‘And they were people she recognised? The ones for Georgie Palmer’s funeral?’

  Rod’s brow was furrowed in concentration. ‘They didn’t know the people for that one either. The dead woman moved away years before. They were the only people from Blandford who went, so they didn’t know anyone. Mebbe that was why they got confused. They only talked to one person there. That’s why Dad was in a mood, even later on when I saw them. He said it was a complete waste of time. Him moaning made Mum even more miserable.’

  Marsh thought back to Rae’s list of people from the Palmer funeral. So the couple had talked to someone there. Who could it have been?

  ‘This is all very helpful, Rod. I’ve got some checking to do, but what you’ve said fits with another witness.’

  Rod stopped and turned to face Marsh. ‘What? You think what happened was something to do with that funeral? Christ. That’s weird.’

  ‘We don’t know. We have to check everything. I’ll keep you posted.’

  Marsh walked back to the police station and phoned Shirley Willis to check she was in. He then drove over to Poole.

  * * *

  Shirley was a bright, alert seventy-year-old. It soon became apparent that little escaped her notice.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Councillor Blythe was in a hurry coming out of the crematorium building. And he was most definitely in the previous one, not Georgie Palmer’s. He seemed to be in a bit of a mood, and didn’t apologise for nearly knocking me over when he bumped into me.’

  ‘Did he talk to anyone else?’ Barry asked.

  ‘Not really. The people I was talking to had to step back sharpish. The husband seemed to be a bit quiet after that.’

  ‘Who were they, Mrs Willis?’

  ‘I’d never met them before the funeral. They were looking a bit lost so I just started talking to them. I think they said they knew Georgie from when she lived in Blandford.’

  Marsh nodded. ‘That ties in. I just needed to double check with you. It might be a key piece of evidence.’

  ‘Your colleague didn’t say much when she phoned, but I’ve been wondering. Were they that couple found dead in the nature reserve?’

  ‘Yes, and we’re treating their deaths as suspicious. Can you keep all this to yourself, Mrs Willis? It’s a very sensitive investigation and we don’t want to release too much to the press at the moment.’

  She nodded. ‘Of course. They seemed a nice enough couple. They didn’t strike me as the types who would commit suicide.’

  ‘What did you talk about?’

  ‘Mainly how we knew Georgie. The woman, I think her name was Sylvia, used to play badminton with her. She was a bit nervy, but I’m not surprised, after having just found themselves in the wrong place. I sat with them during Georgie’s service and she was much calmer when that finished. They didn’t come to the reception, though. Her husband wanted to get back to Blandford before the rush hour traffic, so we didn’t chat for long.’

  * * *

  Marsh drove back to Blandford, and called at Pete Armitage’s small office. He was in, checking through a pile of invoices.

  ‘The curse of running your own business, Sergeant,’ Pete said. ‘I sometimes think I’ll drown in paper.’

  Marsh laughed. ‘It’s a curse for everyone these days, Mr Armitage. It’s unbelievable how much we have to do in the police, but prosecutions would fail if it wasn’t all done properly.’

  ‘How can I help you?’

  ‘I wonder if there’s a chance either Sylvia or Ted talked to you about a funeral they attended back in April? In Poole?’

  ‘No. I don’t remember it. When was this?’

  ‘Towards the end of the month.’

  ‘I was away on holiday then. Took a break in Barcelona to see the sights and fit in a football match. Had a great time.’

  Post dropped onto the floor of the lobby, and Pete walked through to collect it. Marsh was left looking at the invoices and the computer screen. His eyes ran idly down the list, and a name jumped out at him. Woodruff Holdings. Pete must have done a decorating job at one of their properties. Marsh was about to lean forward to gain a clearer view when he heard Pete’s footsteps. He stood up, sa
id goodbye and left.

  * * *

  ‘I didn’t expect to see you back so soon, Chief Inspector.’ Gordon Mitchell was still in the Woodruff Holdings company offices above the Rising Moon pub. He looked warily at the two detectives standing in the doorway.

  Sophie gave him a cool smile. ‘I need to see your company records, Mr Mitchell. There’s a chance that Mr Sorrento’s death may be linked to his work, so I’d like access to the records of other organisations and businesses that he’d have been in contact with. You currently own, what, twelve premises?’

  Mitchell nodded.

  ‘And Mr Sorrento did most of the day to day management? Apart from the legal aspects, which were your own concern. Is that right?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So he would be dealing with a lot of people on a regular basis?’ He nodded. ‘We need to check in more detail. We glanced at the company records this morning, but little more.’

  She unlocked the door to Sorrento’s office. ‘Has anyone else been in here since we left this morning?’

  ‘Just the cleaner.’

  ‘I thought I said no one was to come in? Wasn’t that clear enough for you?’

  ‘Sorry,’ Mitchell mumbled.

  Sophie and Marsh left him in the corridor and closed the door. Marsh switched on the computer while Sophie started looking through the large ring-binders on a shelf behind the desk. Both yielded the evidence they were looking for. Pete Armitage was obviously the main decorating contractor for all the Woodruff premises. He’d invoiced for two already this year, and three the previous year. They photographed each page.

  ‘They might have had time to sanitise anything that could have linked them to Sorrento’s death,’ Sophie said, ‘but this stuff wouldn’t have appeared suspicious. It’s just ordinary company records. Run of the mill stuff to them. But gold dust to us. Well, would you believe it? Could our nice, friendly Pete Armitage be a wolf in sheep’s clothing?’

  They left the office, taking the stack of folders with them.

  ‘Useful, Mr Mitchell. Gives us many of the people he’d have been in contact with. You’ll get them back when we’ve finished with them, probably in a couple of days.’

  They walked back to the car.

  ‘He’ll be panicking round about now,’ Sophie said. ‘He’ll be back in that office to see exactly what we’ve taken, then he’ll be on the blower to his bosses. Someone, sometime, will think of our man, Pete. If he is involved, they’ll start to worry.’

  ‘Do you think he might be in danger?’

  ‘Only if he is involved somehow. If it’s purely coincidence, then he’s got nothing to worry about, has he?’

  ‘But we don’t know yet.’

  ‘No. Do you think we should put Blackman and McCluskie onto surveillance, just to keep him safe? They’ll do a good job, won’t they? Two solid, reliable, hard-working coppers.’ Sophie laughed.

  CHAPTER 26: Willy-Waggling

  Saturday Evening, Week 2

  A thin drizzle was falling, creating halos around the lights along the footpath. The figure in the dark coat had turned up his collar and lowered his umbrella as he approached. Mitchell couldn’t make out his features.

  ‘Listen, Wayne. Don’t tell me anything I don’t absolutely need to know. And that includes what you and your pals have been getting up to, because it makes me an accessory. The less I know the better. And who’s this guy with you?’

  ‘Gordon Mitchell. He’s been doing our legal stuff for years now. We’ve just promoted him, so he’ll be doing some of Tony’s jobs. You need to be able to recognise him, just in case.’

  Gordon stepped forward and held out his hand. It was ignored.

  ‘Recognise him? Christ, what do you want from me now? Listen, this has gone far enough. I’m not some little snitch, at your beck and call. I looked after your dad’s interests as a favour. All I did was to tip him off if the police were visiting one of his places. As far as I’m concerned, that stopped when he died. That’s what I told Sorrento. And the stuff you’ve been up to in the last few days turns my stomach. I don’t know why the two of you fell out, I never asked him for details. But what you did was way beyond what was necessary. What is it with you? First that old couple, now one of your own top people. Are you fucking mad? Talk about a hornets’ nest. Why did you do it?’

  ‘He was double-crossing me and my family. It was either him or us. No alternative. And I’ve got Frimwell to keep sweet, now he’s involved. He won’t put up with any dissent. And as for that doddery old couple, do you think it was me that topped them in case they'd seen something? I'm not some psychopathic nut-head like Frimwell. There was more to it than that, trust me.’

  There was a snort. ‘Frimwell? That mad bastard? He’s inside, locked up safe and sound. For life. What can he do?’

  ‘He’s still running things for his family. His sisters get a load of dosh each month from their mum’s trust fund, and it’s that same trust that owns the properties we’ll be buying. I want Gordon here to take over the running of that trust, then start to make changes. Access to it will give me a helluva lot of flexibility. But I’ve got to keep the Frimwells sweet, all of them. They’re a close lot.’

  The man was slowly shaking his head. He was deliberately standing in deep shadow, and Gordon still couldn’t make out any of his features.

  Woodruff continued. ‘And I know you did more for my dad. I know you pulled strings and made contacts for him, so don’t try and bullshit me. I won’t ask you to do any more for me than you were doing for him, so don’t get high and mighty. I’ll make it worth your while. We’ll all be in clover once I get our business merged with the Frimwells.’

  Gordon had never worked this closely with Wayne before, he’d always had Sorrento as a go-between. His new boss wasn't as canny as he’d imagined. Gordon was learning a lot from this exchange but he was worried about the implications of what he'd heard. Was Wayne behind the recent deaths, as this cop had implied?

  ‘So it’s a merger now? Sorrento was talking of just buying some of their properties.’

  Woodruff sighed. ‘It was all so unnecessary. He never realised that I’d always planned this. He thought up his little scheme all by himself, and just didn’t twig that he was treading on my toes. I had a far bigger project in mind.’

  ‘Isn’t it chancy getting involved with the Frimwells? Do you think you’ll be able to control them?’

  Wayne laughed. ‘You don’t get it, do you? You cops think you know everything, but you fucking don’t. I know it’ll work because I’ve got an insider. I don’t just have you and that greedy council bloke who acts like he’s some bigwig but does everything I tell him. Shall I tell you his weakness, apart from the money I give him? He likes snorting crack in the presence of a couple of busty babes. He can’t resist the white powder and the big tits. And if the trail of crack is spread out on the big tits, even better.’ He paused. ‘No, I have an insider in the Frimwell family business, involved with the trust fund. And there’s stacks of cash there. So stay on my good side, my friendly cop, and you too will be in clover.’

  ‘I’ll need to think about it,’ came the reply.

  ‘Okay, but don’t take too long. And you’d better make the right decision when you’ve done your thinking. Savvy?’

  The man turned on his heels and walked away, his tall form quickly disappearing into the mist and gloom.

  ‘Prick,’ Woodruff said. ‘It’s different days for him now. He either sings to my tune or not at all.’

  Gordon and Woodruff turned back towards their car. ‘What can you do if he doesn’t play along?’ Gordon asked.

  ‘Plenty. And if Blythe starts playing up as well, I’ve got enough to link the two together and bring them both down. The finer detail will be up to you, Gordy, you’re our legal man. But it won’t be too tough.’

  ‘How’s Griffy taking the change? He wasn’t happy when I told him about my new role last night at your barbecue.’

  ‘He’ll come round
. He knows which way his bread is buttered. It’ll all be fine, Gordy. The whole thing is sitting there like a big, juicy plum, ripe for the picking. I’ve been thinking about this for years, ever since I married Sue. And working on it since Frimwell was locked up. I could see what it would mean even then.’

  ‘How can you be so confident?’ Gordon asked. ‘Don’t get me wrong, it’s a good plan and I can’t see any problems, but you seem so sure.’

  ‘Don’t you know? Haven’t you twigged? Sue is Ricky Frimwell’s sister. She’s the brains behind the family trust. That’s why I was laughing all the time Tony was up to his shenanigans. He didn’t know that my wife is Ricky’s sister, and he didn’t know anything about their trust. And you, my good friend, with your brains and your legal know-how, are ideally placed to exploit it. Sue is on our side, so we’re nearly home and dry. She thinks she runs things, but I know better.’ He paused. ‘God, I feel on top of the world. How about a couple of beers before we split? I’ve got a bit of a thirst.’

  * * *

  Back at the Mitchells’ house, Marilyn was pouring nibbles into a couple of dishes when the doorbell rang. She glanced at her watch. That would be Sue Woodruff, a few minutes later than planned. Sue had phoned Marilyn soon after Gordon had left, asking if she could pop round for a chat. Marilyn had been looking forward to an evening with her feet up, watching the television, but she didn’t feel able to turn down a request from the wife of Gordon’s new boss.

  Marilyn walked slowly to the door. Sue was on the doorstep, already slipping out of her coat, ready to hang it up. She was wearing an expensive-looking dress and high heels. She leant forward to give Marilyn a quick hug and a kiss.